Cages
by shadesofeden
Summary: Katniss and Peeta have won last year's Hunger Games 73rd instead of 74th and are to be wed. This year, Gale is reaped. Finnick mentors Myka, the chosen male tribute of District 4 that proves to have more to him than expected. Who will be crowned victor? Slight AU. Gale/?. Main: OMC/Finnick/Annie. Rated M for Slash, lemons, and violent situations. This is a very dark tale.
1. Chapter 1

March, sixteen and one years ago.

A light, ghostly snow covers the dirt pavement, creating patches of muddled excess about the gloomy district. The winter months were always the most difficult. What didn't wither from the cold died of disease, illness, or starvation. The tiny cottage was no exception. There is a piercing shatter of glass to a cupboard. A petite woman is kneeling on the ground, her face raised to the heavens as her dirty hands claw at her pouring eyes, fingers tangled in soft, blonde waves of hair. The hysterical cries are unheard in the howling wind. "No!" She's screaming over and over and over again. The soft green blanket of her newborn is the only article left of him. It's sprinkled with her blood.

She tried desperately to save the baby. The man, a foot taller and more than twice her weight, was too strong. She scratched, clawed, threw tiny fists into the man's chest and back attempting to reach her baby in his arms. All she could catch was the baby's blanket. The man, furious, pulls the cradled baby in his right arm away from her, connects a balled left fist to her mouth. The blood spattered droplets onto the blanket. Determined, but disoriented, the woman slightly steps back, hand still clutching the blanket. All it takes is a single push and she's thrown into the cupboard, sliding down the wood with a small trail of blood flowing behind her. She was unconscious hours before she awoke to the seemingly empty home, realizing her three month old baby was gone forever.

* * *

It's warm outside. The grass is cool beneath Gale's feet as he walks around the small pond. His gray eyes are tensely focused on the girl swimming in it. He does this a lot; watching her; observing her with her luscious brown hair, delicate olive skin, and identical gray eyes. She's beautiful and she doesn't even realize it.

"Are you going to jump in or are you just going to stand there all day?" Katniss beams with a joking smile. Gale takes off the soiled, gray shirt from his body and jumps into the pond, splashing water all over Katniss. They share a laugh, splashing at each other. There's no better way to get away from the chaos of District 12 than to be here, in this very moment, with his best friend.

"It's a shame we couldn't just stay here forever. You know, get away from it all." Gale says. Suddenly, Katniss' smile falters and becomes sad. She walks out of the pond and stares at the water, her face becoming more stricken with grief. Tomorrow is the Reaping, a yearly event in which one female and one male selected between the ages of 12 and 18 from each of the twelve districts are announced to fight to the death. Although she wouldn't be participating in the Reaping again due to her last victory, she still worried. Her little sister, Prim, still carried a chance of her name being called. With President Snow's anger at Katniss, the chances of her little sister having to compete didn't seem just possible, but certain.

Gale did not need to ask her what was wrong or how she felt; he already knew. He slowly walked out of the cool water and took a seat next to her. He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face into his chest. Her little Prim may have to compete. She'll have to keep up the charade of being madly in love with Peeta and hope it's enough to please President Snow. Who will she have to mentor? Will it be someone she knows or loves? Can she protect them? How? There were too many questions troubling her mind. The images flash through her brain with memories of the last Reaping. Pain. Blood. Death. So much death.

It's nearly nightfall when she and Gale head their separate ways home. Peeta is at her house, a look of concern on his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks tentatively. Katniss only looks to the ground, shakes her head, and firmly says, "No." He reaches his hand out to her. She accepts his offer and they walk into her new house. It's been a whole year now, but this big house still doesn't feel like home.

She misses the tiny cottage she shared with her mother and sister. This place- this place made for a victor; big, spacious, filled with beautiful furniture, food, and luxury- feels empty and unnatural. Her mother and sister are drinking tea at the kitchen table when she walks in. They smile and welcome her back and offer Peeta something to drink. He politely declines. He just wanted to make sure Katniss was alright.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Katniss. Remember; everything will be fine and I'll be right there with you." Katniss smiles at this; she's grown to love Peeta. Whether she was in love with him or not, she was still uncertain. But having his presence around always made her feel better. Perhaps marrying him wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He certainly loves her. And he's done more for her than anyone in this world ever had.

Peeta excuses himself and bids the Everdeen family a good night. Katniss smiles weakly at her mother and sister. She walks up to her sister at the table where Prim offers her a cup of tea. Thankful, she accepts the hot cup and presses it to her lips. It tastes lovely, but she isn't in the mood to drink anything. She excuses herself to go to bed. When she's finally changed into a loose fitting set of sweat pants and a tank top, she throws herself into the bed and hides her face and arms into her pillow. It's going to be a long day tomorrow. Then there's a light knock on the door. Prim appears dressed in a powder blue night gown with her sunny blonde hair tied into two long braids. She doesn't say anything, just hops into the bed with Katniss and wraps her arms around her sister. Katniss clutches her close to her body.

"Goodnight, Katniss." Prim whispers sleepily, sinking her face into her older sister's neck.

"Goodnight, little duck." And Prim falls asleep instantly. Katniss is watching the wall beyond her, trying with all her might to fall asleep. Their mother walks in shortly after and Katniss pretends to be asleep. She sits on the bed, looking down at both her daughters. She touches their heads and kisses them both on the forehead before whispering, "I love you." She walks out quietly and Katniss is finally able to let the fatigue take over.

* * *

Gale is tucking his younger brothers into bed. They fall asleep immediately, exhausted from a day of playing outside with their friends after school. Gale walks back into the living space, where his mother is looking out the window.

"You okay, Mom?" Gale asks softly. She looks at him slowly, smiles, and pats the space on the couch next to her. He takes a seat next to her; doesn't remove his eyes from her. She looks back out of the window as he waits patiently.

"I love you boys more than you can ever know." She says. Gale looks at her confused. He knew she loved him and his brothers, but her behavior was a bit strange. In his 18 years, he's never known her to look so troubled. She always carried a strong face.

"I love you, too." He says after she doesn't say anything more. She looks back at him, hugs him, and then walks into her bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. Gale looks out the window and his thoughts are suddenly cloudy. He doesn't want to think right now, so he heads back to his room and attempts to go to sleep.

* * *

While the Districts are all quiet in despondency, the Capitol is as alive as it has ever been. It's the day before the Reaping, which means a celebration and a night of entertainment throughout the city. Everyone cheers, clinks glasses of champagne together, eats and drinks until their bellies are full and they eat and drink and dance some more. Finnick Odair wants to be home in District 4. He's been in the Capitol for far too long and wants to see his family. But this was part of his agreement with President Snow; he's here to please anyone and everyone to keep his loved ones alive. A group of giggling girls pull him towards a room upstairs. He acts the part and joins in on the laughter and booze.

When they let themselves into the room, there are already men and women toasting to the night. They shout with delight as they see Finnick enter the room and sip on their drinks. They're swallowing small violet and turquoise pills. Finnick doesn't know what the pills are, but takes two when a woman wearing a yellow corset adorned in orange and white flowers matching her bright orange hair tells him to open his mouth and places the tiny pills onto his tongue. She presses the pills in his mouth, getting her fingers wet in the process and puts her hand up to her own mouth. She sucks her fingers, attempting to seduce the perfectly muscular, bronzed, and tall man in front her.

Finnick is pulled by another set of hands towards a massive bed covered in the tackiest assortment of flowers. All the colors of the flowers make Finnick's stomach churn. Two bodies touch his chest and grab the hem of his glittery gold shirt. They pull it over his head and toss the garment to the ground and suddenly there are hands all over his body. Men and women caressing his abs, pinching his nipples, kissing his neck, touching his thighs and grabbing his most sensitive part between his legs. Whatever was in the pills is making his erection spring to life and his vision blur the people and objects in front of him.

Then his world is in a hazy whirl of tingling sensation and beautiful paintings of abstract colors.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud crash wakes Myka from his slumber. His father must be home and feeling the effects of a well-induced hangover. His presence is never good news. A very worn out Myka rubs at his dark-circled and puffy red eyes before very cautiously stepping over the compact sofa by the window he'd been using as a personal makeshift bed. He puts on a forest green shirt and walks out into the living space.

"Mother fucking piece of shit chair always getting in my fucking way!" An enormous man yells to no one in particular. Myka shifts from side to side nervously when the man finally takes notice of him.

"Why the fuck is the chair in the middle of the fucking kitchen? You trying to fucking kill me or something?" He yells at the boy. Myka never moves the wooden chairs; doesn't even sit on them. They're uncomfortable reminders of a past experience of the man breaking off the leg of one and beating him furiously with it when he suspected his son of sneaking out. While Myka may have been only a couple inches shorter than his father standing at six-foot-three, the bones protruding from his collar, wrists, and hips proved him to be a very scrawny and otherwise weak 17 year old. He knows better than to correct the powerfully built man in front of him.

"I'm sorry, sir." Myka says quietly, staring at the ground. The bulky chap stomps over to his son and grabs his messy black hair. He pulls Myka's face up and stares at the boy's tired and timid eyes. Despite the obvious exhaustion, Myka had the most captivating sun-yellow and bright-green eyes. Well, they were yellow and green at the moment; Myka's eyes changed color depending on his frame of mind. He touched his other hand delicately on the side of Myka's face; almost lovingly. The moment was short lived when he suddenly backhanded the boy on the mouth and pushed him away. Myka yelped and touched his fingers to the bleeding corner of his lips.

"Get changed. Gotta get going soon." is all he mumbles as he leaves the boy in the living space alone.

* * *

Katniss is sitting on a decorative oak chair in her bathroom, staring at the wall while her mother combs her hair. After last year's Reaping, she's become less apprehensive about letting her mother care for her. She's noticed her mother enjoys being able to parent her and Prim. And now she's come to realize her mother is not the weak, hopeless being she once believed. There was the smallest fragment of understanding and forgiveness since she'd won the Games.

When her mother had finished combing her hair into a single braid, she took slow, uneasy steps back to her bedroom. She looked to her bed to find a delicate, beautiful sky blue dress waiting for her. She stared at the dress for some time; her heart gently pounding in her neck and ears. The beating grew faster in pace, more audible. She was sure anyone could hear the thumping of her heart racing quicker and quicker. Suddenly, her balled fists are shaking. Hair stands straight up against the back of her neck. Her lips are quivering. She's about to lose it; scream and tear and bedroom apart when a girl walks up behind her.

"Katniss?" Katniss turns and looks at Prim, standing by the doorway. She lets out a loud sigh of relief as if she'd suddenly remembered how to breathe. She attempts a shaky smile at her soft-hearted younger sister. Prim looks lovely in her pink dress; it brings out the innocence of her features; her sunny blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Katniss abruptly decides she hates the dress. It's a reminder of Prim's kind nature. Prim doesn't say anything, just hugs Katniss with a tender smile.

"Don't be scared, Katniss." She coos softly. That's when Katniss realizes she must be strong. For herself and for Prim.

* * *

This is the last year Gale's name will be added to the drawing. The dilemma, however, is that it will be added over 50 times. He looks over at his younger brothers eating a breakfast of blueberries and grain. They poke fun at each other, making faces and giggling behind glasses of milk. They seem happy, as if the Reaping wasn't about to happen. Gale is reminded of his past at their age.

_His mother is beautiful. She looks younger, healthier, even joyful. She's cooking a delicious supper with a smile on her face, humming to herself. Gale is reading a textbook on coalmining for school. Then there's a long, loud bell sounding across town. At this, Gale looks straight at his mother, whose face has just become frozen with horror. Her eyes are wide and her skin has faded a ghostly pale. Gale instantly throws his schoolwork aside and runs towards the sirens. Everyone in District 12 knows what the sirens mean; it means there's been an accident._

_Peacekeepers push the group of anxious family members away from the mines. Workers are being pulled out one by one. A lot of them are severely injured. They wait for hours. Some families cry with joy when they see their loved ones are alive. Gale waits nervously for his father to appear amongst the rescued workers. His mother has joined his side, pure anxiety in her eyes and open mouth. After what seems like an eternity, a final man comes out of the mines. He looks to the lead Peacekeeper and shakes his head. Gale looks to his mother, whom has just choked back a sob before her knees buckle beneath her and she begins to cry. Gale catches her before she falls; wraps his arms around her. He doesn't say anything to soothe her. Doesn't even try._

There is no comfort in Gale's features. No smile on his face.

Just the stern look of attentiveness.

* * *

District 4 is about to announce their tributes. The boys and girls are divided into two large groups. The youngest are lined in the front, eldest towards the back in proper sections. Finnick Odair stands on the stage with a fictitious, but seemingly charming beam of a smile on his face. He wouldn't be able to forge the smile if he hadn't been able to see his precious Annie and his beautiful family this morning. The visit may have been short-lived, but to see them at all was an enormous relief.

The anthem sounds and everyone is quiet. An eccentric man dressed in a purple suit and golden tie walks up to the podium. Thankfully, he doesn't sport exotic colored hair, beard, or strange skin tone. With his simple brown hair and chestnut eyes, his clothes are really the only thing about him that screams "Capitol." He greets the audience to another fantastical Reaping and shares his enthusiasm of how he believes District 4 will surely do well in the Games this year. After a long speech, he is presented a glass bowl with the countless names of possible tributes.

"And for the ladies: Porpoise Delphin." Everyone's eyes look to a tall, fifteen year old girl. Her bright red hair glistens in the sun as she strides to the stage with her head held high. Her green eyes sparkle with beauty and grace. The townspeople often called her "Little Dolphin" because of the little marine fish scar on her right bicep. Coincidentally, it was also the reason for her birth name. She looks older than fifteen, and captivating in her blue-green flowy dress that only showcases her beauty.

"Congratulations, Porpoise. You are ravishing. And for the gentlemen-" The man sticks his hand in a second glass bowl and retrieves a tiny folded paper out and reads the name.

"Myka Volkan." At this, people look about confused. Only a few recognized the name of the boy who's proven he could still be a shade more pale than he already was. If it weren't for school being mandatory, no one would know of Myka's existence. His father made sure of that. When the crowd finally catches on to the stares toward the boy, they all watch him. Myka looks around him and at the blank stares. He looks to the ground and slightly shakes until a Peacekeeper sympathetically pushes him towards the stage.

The uneasy tenseness only increases when Myka is on stage. He hates being stared at. Finnick is shocked when he realizes who the boy is. His mind boggles with the memory.

_Fourteen year old Finnick Odair was kicking the sand as he walked around the beach. He wasn't very familiar with this part of town; it was overall empty and slightly creepy with a few homes sprinkled here and there. His head snapped in the direction of a forceful smash and small yelp coming from one of the homes. The curiosity overpowered Finnick as he hid behind a tree, watching the scene through an open window._

_ A frighteningly large man had a young boy caught by the hair. He smashed the boy's face into the kitchen sink counter causing a gush of blood to travel down his nose and mouth. He let go of the boy's hair and let him sink to the ground. Then the man turned on the sink and let it run until it had filled with water. He lifted the boy from the ground by the hair on the side of his head and dunked the boy's head into the sink. The boy's arms flailed in every direction, trying to find a way out. The man brought his head out of the water and the boy choked for air, blood and mucus pouring down his nose, over his lips, chin, and neck. Finnick thought the boy might have caught him watching for the shortest moment when he noticed the half-open, bright blue eyes with vivid green and yellow specks momentarily look straight at him._

_ The man forced the boy's face back into the water and the chaotic movement of arms started again. After a couple moments, the stirring slowed as his hands grabbed at the sink counter weakly. Just a few seconds later, they hung loosely at his sides. The boy had passed out. Petrified and unknowing what to do, Finnick ran away from the scene as fast as his legs would allow._

Finnick Odair is not running away this time.

* * *

The anthem sounds in District 12. Katniss and Peeta make for an enchanting couple. They match in beautiful blue garments. Effie Trinket has given her bothersome speech as she does every year during the Reaping. Katniss has become rather used to the upbeat, chipper voice. Gale, on-the-other-hand, clenches his jaw tight with every trying sound that escapes her lips.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor." She ends. A glass bowl filled with names is brought to her. Katniss clutches Peeta's hand to the point where he might lose circulation to his fingers. But he doesn't shake her off; only holds back tightly, reminding her that he's right here with her.

"Ladies first!" Effie beams as she pulls a folded paper out. She opens the paper. _This is it. This is the moment of truth. This is where Prim's name will be called and Katniss will have to stand by as her sister is called for the Reaping and must compete with 23 other tributes to the death._

"Marigold Nealson."

The world has just stopped. Katniss can't help but exhale the breath she'd been holding and smile at this. Prim would not be a competitor! Instead, a twelve year old Marigold Nealson walks up stage. A man in the distance is crying. His one and only daughter has been selected to participate in the Games. They catch twin gray eyes and she does everything in her power not to cry. Her dark brown hair wisps with a light wind as she adjusts her gray knee-length dress. Katniss feels a pang of pity for the girl, but can't help but feel relieved that it was not her sister on stage.

"And for the lucky boy..." Effie reaches into the second bowl and pulls out a name.

"Gale Hawthorne." At this, all the anxiety and panic returns to Katniss. Before she can comprehend what she is doing, she starts to race forward. Peeta, however, still has her by the hand and pulls her back to reality.

"Don't do it, Katniss. You'll get him or someone else killed. Stay with me. I'm right here. I'm right here!" Peeta whispers to her anxiously.

"You've got to keep it together if we're going to get him out of the Games alive." At this, Katniss knows to calm down. Tears stream down her face as she watches Gale. But he walks on stage as if this were all just some sort of routine and there's no emotion on his face. He can hear his mother and brothers weep, but doesn't look their way. He'll be damned if he gives the Capitol any satisfaction of seeing him break.


	3. Chapter 3

The Peacekeepers escort Myka to the room where he will have an opportunity to say farewell to his loved ones. There is 20 minutes before he will be boarding the train. Myka walks around the room and observes his surroundings. This was some sort of office, though it didn't look to be one that was currently in use. The walls were made of a fine, polished wood. Perhaps cherry wood. The furniture; a desk furthest from the door, a small tabletop supporting a vase filled with faux white orchids, and a couple of chairs lined among the wall and in front of the desk are made of the same wood. There is a large, old clock above the desk that seemed to have stopped working long ago. The carpet is a soft crème color. There are no windows and the room is otherwise bare and empty. Myka shifts from foot to foot, walking around the room to kill time.

He takes a seat on the big turn-chair behind the desk and looks up at the ceiling. The chandelier glows a beautiful golden hue. He taps on the desk with his fingers then looks around the room again. Uncomfortable, he stands up and walks to the center of the room. Time for the moment has stopped and it's driving him mad. Why couldn't the room at least have a window? Or a book?

There is nothing to keep his mind preoccupied. His thoughts start racing so quickly, it makes him physically nauseous. _If I die, will anyone notice? Will my death be quick and painless? Will it hurt? Will it make a difference? How will I die? _Myka can't help but feel conflicted. On the one hand, he's sure he will die and it won't matter. He was already dead. On the other, he doesn't want to die. But _why? _What was there to live for?

The door opens and a duo of Peacekeepers announce that it is time to go.

* * *

"Gale, don't go!" Gale's youngest brother cries. His younger brothers are holding onto him desperately. He gently pushes them away and in front of him.

"Hey! No tears for me! I need to know you guys are going to be okay. And I need you to take care of Mom. You've all got to be tough and protect her and each other while I'm gone. Alright?" Of course, Gale's heart is broken, but he can never show weakness when he needs his family to stand strong. They nod their heads and each hug him before leaving the room. His mother is the last to leave. She kisses Gale's cheek and places a watch in his cupped hand.

"Come back home," are her final words to him before she is escorted out by a Peacekeeper. Gale nods to her. When he's alone, he looks at the watch and notices a tiny latch. He turns it and the round case opens to reveal not a watch, but a locket of photos. On the left is a photo of him, his mother and father, and his brothers. On the other side is a photo of a small baby with dark hair and ice-blue eyes wrapped in a green blanket. With pouted lips and red cheeks, it looks like the baby had been fussy or crying before the photo was taken. Gale. He closes the case gently and straps the metal bracelet around his left wrist.

* * *

An older woman waits at a table in the train when Finnick walks in.

"Hey Mattie. Have you met the tributes yet?" He asks before taking a seat next to her.

"Oh yes. The girl is a feisty one. And very beautiful. She'll get a lot of sponsors." Mattie says with a smile. Finnick nods.

"What about the boy?" At this, Mattie's smile wavers.

"I'm afraid that poor child doesn't have much going for him. No visitors today. He might get sponsors for his looks, but I doubt it. He's too shy. Terrified of everyone, he is." They sit in silence as they quietly try to think of any alternatives.

"I think," she says, "his best chance is to train with you. I'll train the girl." Finnick has to think on this. He wants to help Myka, but the reminder of his past encounter with him makes him a bit uneasy. _No, I need to do this. I owe it to him._

"Okay. I'll train with him, and you'll train with her then." Just then, Porpoise and Myka are escorted into the train. Porpoise instantly walks up to her now-mentors and extends her hand in introduction.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you both. I'm Porpoise Delphin, but you can also call me 'D' if you'd like." She beams and winks at Finnick. _She'll do just fine getting sponsors._ Myka, on-the-other-hand, stands awkwardly by the entrance of the train.

"It's great to meet you, too, Porpoise." Mattie smiles and shakes her hand.

"Likewise, D." Finnick winks and also shakes her hand. She wrinkles her nose in approval. He looks over to Myka and says, "And you must be Myka Volkan." Myka doesn't look straight at Finnick; just bites his bottom lip and nods his head.

"Come have a seat, you two." Mattie requests. They sit across from their mentors and wait. Finnick notices Myka is avoiding his gaze. Mattie starts.

"We've decided it would be best for you, Porpoise, to train with me. And for you, Myka, with Finnick. It will allow us to really focus on each of you so we can come up with the best game plan to market you to the Capitol and figure out what your best strengths and weaknesses are for the arena."

"Sounds good." Porpoise says. "When do we start?"

* * *

The two chosen tributes of District 12 wait awkwardly inside the train. After an uncomfortable silence, the automatic doors open. They had expected Katniss and Peeta to walk through the doors when an overly drunken Haymitch and bright cotton candy-pink colored hair Effie appear. Haymitch looks as if he might snap the neck of anyone in his way; he's suffering an impressive hangover. Effie beams a smile that is larger than life with teeth so pearly it could blind.

Gale's mouth tightens into a course, straight line.

"What's the matter, handsome? Expected your cousin to be here?" Haymitch mocks with a wink at the word 'cousin.'

"As a matter of fact…" Gale starts. Haymitch falls over a bleak laugh. Effie decides to speak before Haymitch has the opportunity to say anything more.

"Miss Everdeen and Mr. Mellark will not be joining us for a couple days. They have some business to attend to. But we-"

"What sort of 'business?'" Gale cuts her off. A shock of distaste crosses Effie's face. Gale's behavior was rude and completely improper.

"It's probably best if you don't know that, kid." Haymitch spurs before walking over to a large table and opening a bottle of wine.

"Come now." Effie squeaks as she joins Haymitch at the table and takes a courteous seat. Marigold follows suit and sits across her new mentors. Gale, on-the-other-hand, stands defiantly with arms crossed over his chest and flatly says, "I can stand." At this, Effie just gives a sigh.

"You know," she says, "you're not going to get any sponsors with that sort of attitude."

"And what makes you think I care?" Gale scorns. Haymitch is the one to respond.

"If you want to win the Games, you should care. Sponsors are your survival tools. Having sponsors means water in the desert. Not having sponsors is the quickest way to die, right after stupidity."

Gale stops to think Haymitch's words over carefully. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was going to need their help to win the Games.

The room is silent as everyone looks at Gale, awaiting his decision. He stands there for a moment, arms still crossed over his chest. After a minute, his arms uncross and he walks over to take a seat at the table.

"Let's get this over with already."


	4. Chapter 4

The train comes to a screeching halt and there are hundreds of cheering faces waiting outside. Myka is suddenly sick to his stomach and thinks he will either vomit or pass out. Perhaps he'll do both.

"Remember to smile. Everyone is a possible sponsor and you want them to love you." Mattie says. Porpoise is radiating with charm and beauty as she gracefully strides towards the building, waving and blowing kisses to the Capitol people as they pretend to catch her kisses and place them on their hearts, blowing kisses back. Myka looks at the crowd, a terribly weak smile on his face. He pitifully lifts his hand close to his face; an attempt at waving at the crowd. It doesn't take any effort from him for the Capitol people to scream with joy and reach out to touch him. Between his tall frame, dark hair, and striking green and gold eyes, he is an alluring piece of candy begging to be eaten.

Once inside, Mattie escorts Porpoise away, leaving Myka unattended until Finnick arrives.

"We're going to meet your stylists." He says before leading Myka to an elevator. The elevator is cold inside and Myka tenses as the doors close behind them. If Finnick wasn't physically standing right next to him, he might have had a panic attack. He hated closed, tiny spaces. Just as he felt he might stop breathing, the doors open and he lets out an audible exhale of breath. Finnick looks over at the boy and smiles sympathetically. Myka, however, doesn't notice the gesture as he stares out in front of him.

A flamboyant group of three race over to meet their new game. There is a man; taller than Myka but not as tall as Finnick; dressed in a dark blue suit adorned with yellow and orange starfish and sea-animals matching an overly exciting display of blue hair and eyebrows with orange frosted tips. The women, about a foot shorter, are dressed just as flashy; one with bright red hair and a green dress with purple starfish; the other clad in yellow-blonde hair with a thick, solid turquoise streak in the bang, sporting a glittery matching skirt and suit. They caress Myka's jaw and arms.

"Oh, Finnick. You've brought us another doll like you!" The redhead beams with joy. Myka looks toward his mentor with a look of apprehension. '_You're not really going to leave me alone with these people, are you?'_ He hopes Finnick can read his mind.

"Thanks, Poenia." Finnick flashes yet another charming smile and melting wink. "Take good care of him, but don't have too much fun." He teases. The group of three takes Myka by the arm and brings him into another room.

Finnick sits at a table decorated in a fancy silver lace cloth where a comforting Mattie soon joins him.

"How is Little D?" Finnick asks.

"She's fine. I think she'll do well getting sponsors. Such has a charismatic personality. How about the boy?"

"Um, well- I'm sure he'll be great once we can break the shyness. He's too quiet and anxious right now."

"I'm sure he'll do fine with your help, Fin." She offers. Finnick gives her a boyish half-smile. Then there's a mess of shouting coming from one of the rooms.

"Forget it! I can't work with _that_!" The male stylist shouts with disgust as he walks out of the room, the other two stylists scurrying behind.

"C'mon Vernalli, we can figure something out. Maybe cover it with a net?" Poenia suggests halfheartedly.

"No. Covering it up will make us look foolish as stylists. They'll never sponsor him all covered up! Forget it! I can't do anything with it!" He rages. Finnick and Mattie give each other a look before Finnick stands and walks over to the furious stylist.

"What's the problem?" He asks Vernalli. The stylist looks him straight in the eye.

"The problem is that boy's body! We were supposed to dress him up in a magnificent design from the waist down, but now the design is ruined because of that repulsive skin!"

"Let me have a look." Finnick says before heading into the styling room.

What he witnesses before him is enough to make him stop mid-step and gasp out loud in shock.

* * *

A district member could appreciate the distance between District 12 from the Capitol, but it also made for a dreadfully long train ride. Marigold fills her plate with an assortment of delicate cakes. She's only had the leisure of sweet cake a handful of times in her life, and none with so many colors and attractive designs. Gale stares at the food in disgust. There's enough food on the table to feed his entire family handsomely for months. He declines all offer of food and drink. When Marigold picks up one of her delicious breads with her fingers, Effie huffs.

"That is not proper etiquette! Use your fork. You are a civilized young lady and no one will sponsor you if you eat like a wild child. And sit with your back straight!" She snips. The young girl drops the desert back onto her plate as if she'd been caught sneaking a cookie from the jar.

"She's just excited about the food. What are you anyway? The manner police?" Gale mocks. An offended Effie gasps with disbelief. This young man has proved to be quite the mutineer.

"You know," she says, "you will not get sponsors the way you talk to people. Manners alone will increase the chances of a tribute's survival."

"Unfortunately, she's right." Haymitch sloshes between gulps of wine. "Save the attitude for the arena. Right now, we need to prepare for what's about to come. I'm sure you've seen the Games enough times to know how this works. We'll stop in the Capitol where you'll both meet your stylists. We'll have a little less than a week to work on your personality profiles before the chariot introductions. When that's over, we get you ready for training and the interviews. Peachy?"

"Yes, sir." Marigold responds shyly. Gale rolls his eyes, but gives a defeated nod when the train begins to slow down. Marigold races to the window where she catches a glimpse of the Capitol. She grins when people wave to her and blow kisses. She waves back excitedly to the crowd.

When the train stops, Effie warns the two to smile and interact with the crowd. The doors open and Gale is the first to step out. He looks toward the building. Girls shriek with excitement when they see the tall, handsome tribute. He ignores them and walks straight to the building, a little Marigold following close behind but waving and giggling at all the attention she's receiving. She genuinely likes the crowd. When they reach the building, Gale walks straight in without so much as a glance back. Marigold turns around and continues to wave to the crowd before going into the building with a gleaming smile.

The tributes are greeted by a man dressed in black and gold attire. The wardrobe is stylish, but not overly flashy. His dark hair is cut short and he wears a single streak of gold under each of his eyes. The light makeup enhances his striking dark skin and light eyes. His posture is formal, but relaxed. He undeniably sticks out in the Capitol with his refusal to wear masses of pastel colors, outrageous tattoos, or eccentric hair. He speaks with a soft voice.

"Hello. You must be Marigold Nealson and Gale Hawthorne. It's a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Cinna." He greets each of the tributes with a handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, too!" Marigold perks.

"You look familiar." Gale says simply. Cinna nods with a smile.

"I was the stylist for District 12 last year. Katniss is a good friend of mine." He explains. Gale instantly likes him. Cinna had done an exceptional job on their wardrobe last year, giving District 12 a well-deserved and dreadfully needed recognition for the first time in years. Stylists always dressed their tributes to resemble something from their homes. District 12 has always been known for coalmining. Past stylists often had the tributes dress in coal or dirt with headlights as accessories. It was as lackluster and unexciting as it sounded. Cinna, however, created something absolutely mind-boggling when he lit Katniss' and Peeta's beautiful clothing on fire. No one could forget such an incredible display.

"Are you going to light us on fire, too?" Marigold asks. Gale had been wondering this as well.

"I wanted to meet you both before I decided on the design I think would suit you best." This news shocked the two tributes. It's true that the costumes that District 12 wore last year had reflected Katniss perfectly; the girl who was on fire. But they thought it might have been a coincidence. Hearing that Cinna wanted to make sure their wardrobe not only looked good in the chariot introductions but also personally suit them, made them feel like more than just marionettes waiting to be dressed up and controlled by the puppet masters surrounding them.

* * *

"I hate this dress." Besides the fact that her friend, Cinna, had not designed the garment, it was atrocious and heavy. The metal-framed hoops made her hips appear wider than they were. The steel-boned corset made breathing a difficult task and gave her the appearance of a much more womanly shape than she was ever comfortable with. There's no question as to why this particular dress was picked out for Katniss; President Snow wanted to make sure she held up her end of the bargain. The feminine design made her look older, more womanly. It gave her a façade of a body that was ready to bear children. Peeta appreciatively looks her up and down.

"I like it." He teases. Katniss narrows her eyes and lightly backhands him in the chest.

"Ouch! Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" He chuckles. He observes her womanly figure from the corner of his eye, wondering if this would be the form she'd have in a near future. He saddens at the thought of what things will be like after the marriage. The love on his end was real; he'd felt for her since the day he laid eyes on her. But he did not posses her heart. She did not love him. She did not want to marry him. She did not want to have children with him. He could never blame her though; the circumstances made everything unmerited. He just wished he had told her how he felt before they had been selected for the Games. Maybe she would have grown to love him if they'd gotten the chance to know each other before all this.

"You really are beautiful." He mumbles silently. Katniss pretends not to hear him. She struggles not to rip off the constricting dress and wipe off all the makeup that's caked on her face. The sooner this interview was over, the better.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the warning from Cinna, Gale is the least comfortable he's been since beginning this voyage. Three stylists are struggling to get him undressed. The two female stylists leave the room, deciding their best chances of getting measurements and prepping the skin would be to have the tribute work with a solo male stylist. When Gale pushes the man to the ground away from him, the plan is no longer an option.

"You don't want to play nice, fine! We'll play your way." He huffs before walking over to a phone in the corner of a room. "I need assistance in here. We've got a stubborn one. And he's violent." He hangs up the phone and sticks his nose in the air as he leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Gale debates his options. '_Do I run away? No. I'd look like a coward._ _Do I just sit here and do nothing? No. I've got to think of something. Think, Gale, think!'_ But before he can make his decision, a team arrives and two men dressed in white each grab one of Gale's arms. A third man pulls out a syringe and a small bottle of clear liquid. He fills the syringe a quarter of the way and flicks the needle. Gale struggles against the men; pushing, kicking, snarling, and grinding to no avail. The syringe penetrates his bicep and he can feel a cold liquid shoot into his arm. He gradually becomes weaker and weaker until he can do little more than stand and scruffily turn his head. '_Fuckers!'_

Gale staggers to the left when his whole body feels as if it might collapse. The men he had been fighting just a moment ago now act as support as he grabs onto their arms to prevent from falling to the ground. He's still completely aware of his surroundings, but unable to react.

"F-f-fuckers!" He grumbles. "I'm- g-go-going to… to… k-" And he suddenly trips on himself, becoming even more weak.

The man on his left picks him up by the waist and carries his lazy form over a shoulder, holding onto the back of his knees for support. He carries the nearly passed out young man to a gray counter and lays him on the white sheets. Gale sluggishly tilts his face to his right, muttering indecipherable gibberish.

"Thank you." The stylist says as the three men exit the room. He looks down at Gale, whom is trying to focus on the blurry form in front of him, eyes fluttering and mouth agape.

"Do not make me do that again." The stylist puffs before pulling out his measuring tape.

* * *

Finnick cautiously walks over to a naked Myka. He's seated on a table with his knees pulled up against his body. His chest is covered in bruises; thighs plastered with white and pink scars; back wrapped up in embraces of welts, abrasions, and burns. He's shaking violently and tries to cover his body with his hands, quickly glancing away from his mentor. Finnick rests a hand on the boy's shoulder blade. Myka freezes at the touch.

"It's okay." Finnick coos softly. He places his other hand on the boy's jaw and gently pulls his face to look at his own.

"Look at me. It's okay." Finnick tries again and the boy gazes numbly into the concerned set of sea-green eyes. Finnick gapes back; Myka's eyes are an ice-blue with silver flecks. Weren't they green and gold just a moment ago? Myka's cheeks flush in embarrassment and he turns to look away. Finnick holds onto his jaw, refusing to let him turn.

"Hey! Stop it. You don't need to hide from me!" Finnick exclaims. He's mesmerized when the specks in Myka's eyes turn from silver to a soft gold. He looks confused, but still quite uncomfortable. Finnick takes Myka's hands in his own and tenderly tries to pry them away from his body.

"You don't need to hide from me." He whispers again. The eyes are beginning to change again. This time they transform from blue to a forest green with yellow-orange specks and a blue outer ring. '_Wow_.' Myka's subtle gaze becomes tense with puzzlement. The question repeats itself over and over again in his mind; '_Why_?' A moment of perplexity passes when Finnick decides to finally release Myka's hands. His right hand reaches for the boy's face and tenderly caresses his cheek, over his lips, rounding his chin, down his neck. His left hand comes up and Myka thinks he's about to hit him. He doesn't. His left hand copies the actions of his right and soon they're both exploring Myka's battered chest and arms. The touches are so soft and delicate; something completely foreign to him. Finnick looks back into the most striking pair of gray eyes with lavender specks. The door bursts open and the stylist, Poenia, sprints in.

"I've got an idea! Oh-" she cuts herself off. "Am I interrupting?"

"No!" Finnick jumps. "We were just- um- what's this about an idea?" He laughs as he runs a hand through his silky auburn hair.

"The fashion doctor!" She shouts with joy. This had been her best idea yet.

"That's a great idea, Poenia. I'll give him a call now. Would you be a doll and get Myka some clothes for me, gorgeous?"

"Of course!" And she takes off to fetch some clothes. She'd do anything at that moment to please the charming, handsome Finnick Odair. He struts out of the room without as much as a glance back at Myka. '_What just happened there?'_ Whatever it was, it would not happen a second time. He was in love with Annie. And as far as he knew, very heterosexual. Myka is left in the room feeling alone, confused, and very much abandoned.

* * *

"Have you two decided on a date for the wedding yet?" An over-zealous woman beams. Her hair fades from bright yellow to orange, red, and black on the very tips. Presumably, to mimic fire. Her golden dress with an oversized replica of Katniss' mockingjay pin seemed to make the point.

"Well, we don't want to rush into things right away. We want everything to be perfect." Peeta smiles at Katniss and kisses her forehead. She smiles at this. Peeta really is a good actor.

"You two make such a perfect pair! We're all very excited to see the wedding." The woman awes when Katniss rests her head on Peeta's shoulder, their fingers entwined.

"Thank you. We're very excited, too." Peeta responds with a grin.

"So tell me; is there anything you can share with us about the wedding? What is the dress going to look like?" At this, Katniss hesitates. She hates having to speak.

"Um- I think Cinna is working on a couple of different designs right now." She says. _'Come on. Say something else! President Snow is going to be upset if you don't have more to say!'_ Her thoughts run wild when Peeta comes to her rescue.

"Cinna did such amazing work with our outfits last year that it only made sense that he design the dresses. He and Katniss are good friends and we know he'll come up with the most incredible wedding dress anyone has seen." _'Phew.'_

"Yes, the dress with the fire! I think I stopped breathing when I saw that. No doubt your dress will be incredible. I know I can't wait to see what Cinna comes up with. Thank you for your time here in the studio. We really appreciate it. And we look forward to seeing you both very soon!"

"It's our pleasure. We're always happy to talk with you." Peeta nods. Katniss thinks about what she could possibly add.

"Yes, it's always a pleasure. Thank you for the wonderful interview." She forges a smile. The woman shakes both their hands when Katniss has an idea to hug her. The woman smiles wide and Katniss instantly knows she made the right decision. She wishes it wasn't so difficult for her to play along. Peeta was a master at it.

They exit the building holding hands and head to a black car waiting for them. They take their seats inside and Katniss lets out a deep breath. Now they can finally take a break and not have to worry about the wedding for a couple hours. This is their time away from the Capitol people. Despite this, Katniss rests her head against Peeta's shoulder. The gesture isn't forced. She's happy the interview is over and she has Peeta to keep her company.


	6. Chapter 6

Several hours pass before Gale is completely conscious again. Conscious and livid. He looks to his right to see Haymitch is sitting next to him and is sloshing down his drink.

"They drugged me!" He shouts in disbelief. Haymitch looks at him for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

"That'll happen when you pick fights, kid. You really couldn't just let them take their measurements and finish their prep work, could you? I mean c'mon! It's not like they were trying to kill you." Gale narrows his eyes and grits his teeth.

"I know that! I'm not stupid." Gale retorts.

"Could have fooled me." Haymitch says flatly before taking another swig of his drink. There is no clever reply. Gale hates that Haymitch is right. He acted foolishly.

"Get some lunch, will you? I reckon you aren't so stupid as to starve yourself before going into an arena with 23 other bigger, fed tributes looking to kill you." And with that, he gets up and leaves. Gale accusingly glares at the wall before him. He does this for several minutes when it hits him that being angry at the wall isn't going to help him in any way. He stands up, defeated, and heads over to the eating space to get food he'd secretly hungered for since leaving District 12.

* * *

Not many knew his real name, but everyone loved the fashion doctor. He performed miracles and created works of art. He could zap away all freckles and birthmarks in a minute flat. He could sculpt a woman to a perfect hourglass. He could even change the color of your skin without leaving the slightest spot of imperfection. The Capitol called him "Dr. Marvel."

"Of course I can get rid of the rubbish on his chest! The legs too. The back will take a little more work, but certainly not impossible. Are there any other adjustments to be made?" The way Dr. Marvel talked about Myka and touched his body as if he were some sort of damaged toy disturbed him.

"He's too skinny." Vernalli pipes in. "And too pale. Can you fix that?"

"Done." Dr. Marvel says. Finnick, on-the-other-hand, does not approve.

"No dying his skin. And no plastic surgery." Finnick states flatly. Vernalli taps his foot impatiently.

"Don't be stupid, Odair. That boy needs a lot of work if you want to get him any sponsors."

"He's right, Fin." The other stylist, the woman in the teal suit, agrees.

"No skin dying. No plastic surgery." Finnick repeats.

"I won't need to operate on the body. I've created a regime that will increase his muscle mass with a few injections in the core limbs of his body. He'll be on bed rest for a couple of days, but the results will be absolutely worth it." Dr. Marvel announces excitedly. Finnick isn't convinced right away. He excuses himself to have a discussion with the stylists. After half an hour has passed, he walks back into the room.

"Will he suffer any side effects or damage in any way?"

"He'll be nauseous for a couple of days and he'll probably want to stay in bed just as long. His body will ache temporarily until the regime has worked its course. In all, it will be like having the flu. The muscle mass is permanent unless he decides to eat cake all day, every day, but I doubt that will be a problem. Shall I get started?" The fashion doctor does reflect his reputation as certain and slightly cocky. It takes a little shove, but Finnick eventually, and reluctantly, agrees.

* * *

Katniss and Peeta immediately cease their conversation when Gale walks in the room. They both look at him expectantly. When he says nothing, Katniss stands from the table and walks over to him. She stops half a foot from him and they share a quizzical look before embracing. His hands grip onto her shoulder blades. Peeta looks away from them, the tension suddenly thick and awkward. He doesn't want to be here anymore.

"I need to talk to you." Gale says impassively, gray eyes focused on her own. There is a moment of silence in the room when Katniss looks over at Peeta. He offers her a weak smile before excusing himself.

"I'm pretty tired. I think I'm just going to call it a night. We'll talk later, Katniss." Peeta begins to walk out of the room when he halts in his tracks, looks over to Gale and says, "Goodnight, Gale." There is no hostility or resentment in his voice. Despite knowing Gale's affection for Katniss, he could never wish anything bad on Gale.

"Night." Is all Gale manages when Peeta walks away. He wished that Peeta wasn't so polite; so genuinely nice. He wanted to have a reason to hate the kind-hearted blonde that stole his Katniss away from him.

"What's up?" Katniss is noticeably uncomfortable. She knows exactly what Gale wants to talk to her about.

"Let's get out of here." Well, she _thought_ she knew what he wanted to talk about.

"What are you talking about, Gale?"

"We could leave here. Just you and I. We'll do it when they're all sleeping. By the time they notice, we'll be long gone." He's perfectly serious. Katniss could see this just by the way he's looking at her.

"You know we can't!" Katniss shrieks. "If you and I take off, they'll kill our families! They'll kill Peeta-"

"Of course." Gale rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" The anger is boiling over. This whole discussion was ludicrous.

"Nothing." He waves the question off.

"No. I want to know what you meant." She looks at him intently. His eyes narrow before answering.

"You two never said a word to each other until the Games. I've been with you since the beginning. Before he came around! Damn it, Katniss. Don't you get it? You know nothing about each other and you're getting married?" He's beginning to shout.

"That's not fair, Gale! You know I didn't have a choice in this!" She yells back.

"Yeah, and it's obviously bothering you." He scoffs. Katniss gasps in shock. She slaps his cheek with a loud smack and her eyes swell with water.

"You- have- _no_ idea what this is doing to me!" She says between choked sobs. She turns her heel and races from the room, running as far from him as she can possibly manage.

Gale stares in the direction she ran to. Reality sinks in, slowly. When he realizes what had just happened, the frustration stirs. He walks over to the table Katniss and Peeta had been sitting at just a moment ago and clenches his fists. He swiftly hurls a tightened fist into the table and manages to break the wood. The release of tension feels good. He turns the table over and suddenly he's throwing chairs in every direction, breaking anything and everything he can get his hands on. He doesn't stop until everything in his path is completely destroyed.


	7. Chapter 7

The sobs come out in congested shrills. Katniss has been crying for some time. Her whole body is tired and sore. What Gale had said was cruel, but it wasn't the only thing that was bothering her. In some sense, he was right. She didn't want to get married, but she knew it was the best way to protect her family. And not just her family, but Gale's too. If he was foolish enough to believe they could run away without hurting anyone, he was surely the most dim-witted person she knew. And Peeta may not have been involved in her life until last year's reaping, but he did everything to protect her. If they hadn't done what they did, neither of them would have made it home. _Why can't you understand, Gale? Don't you see what this does to everyone? You idiot._

There's a soft knock on the door. It isn't like Gale to apologize for anything. She refuses to talk to him. The knocking starts again. When she digs her face into her pillow and says nothing, it opens slowly. She turns around, ready to shout and kick him out when she notices Peeta at the door. He looks at her sympathetically.

"Katniss?" His voice is so gentle. "Are you alright?"

She rubs her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying. He closes the door behind him and walks toward her, taking a seat on her bed. He takes a stray portion of hair that's fallen into her face between his fingers and strokes it behind her ear. She buries her head into his broad chest and begins to cry again. He massages her back and rocks her side to side. His touches are so soothing and sweet. Her eyes grow heavy. When her breathing slows to a normal pace, Peeta pulls their bodies down to rest on the bed. He kisses her forehead and continues to stroke her back. She pulls the blanket around their bodies. They wrap their arms around each other and soon they both fall asleep.

* * *

Sitting on the ground, his hands lay on his upright knees. He rests his head on the wall as he stares off at nothingness. The room is littered with broken glass and debris. His face is void of any emotion. His mind is blank. He isn't even aware of the other man in the room.

"You want a drink?" An empathetic Haymitch sits next to Gale, handing him a bottle. Gale looks at the dark liquor and accepts without the slightest hesitation. He swigs the numbing liquid in solid gulps. It burns his throat. He hands it back to Haymitch, who takes a drink himself before handing it back to Gale.

"Thanks." Gale mutters before taking another gulp.

"He's a good kid, you know." Haymitch says suddenly. Gale looks at him, eyes glossed over.

"I know." He looks back out at the nothingness. "Doesn't mean I have to like him." Another swig of the drink.

"No. No, you don't. But maybe you should pretend to." Haymitch looks across the room as well.

"Why?" Gale is irritated at the suggestion.

"Because if you die, he's going to be the only one who can keep her going."

"And what if I win?" Gale looks back at the older man next to him.

"If you win," Haymitch starts, "you might find yourself wishing you hadn't."

"Well that's very optimistic of you. Thanks for the heads up, coach." Gale growls. _What the hell is wrong with this guy?_

"There's more to it than just winning, kid. Killing another person- it changes you. This place changes you. No one is who they were before the Games. Which victors are happier now after they've won?" He lets the question sink for a moment.

"The career victors seem happy enough." Gale states.

"You said it; seem happy enough." And with that, he stands up, brushes off his pants, and walks out of the room. Gale ponders what Haymitch just said. It's obvious that Haymitch is trying to tell him something more than just the spoken context. He finds himself wondering what life will be like if he wins. His family will be fed every day. He won't have to hunt or break anymore laws trying to keep himself, his mother, and brothers alive. He'll never have to compete again. What sort of grief and troubles will he really have? Mourning the loss of the lives he takes? _Please. If they are trying to kill me, why would I pity them?_ He begins to contemplate his future with Katniss.

_If I win, we can be together. Our families will be taken care of and won't depend on us anymore. We'll all live in big, nice houses and we'll eat meat and drink milk every day. We can get married. We can have children. A boy and a girl. We'll name our son after our fathers. Our daughter will look just like Katniss. We'll teach them to be strong and look after one another as we have. We'll be happy. And Peeta-_

_ Peeta can bake and fall in love with some other girl. Katniss won't be able to just sit around a bakery all day. He'll need someone who likes to do that sort of thing. He'll marry some fat girl like his mother and they can eat bread and decorate cake all day._

_ Peeta and Katniss can't get married._

Gale's thoughts are interrupted when a drunken Haymitch reenters the room. He walks over to Gale, leans over, and takes the bottle of liquor from before.

"Forgot something." He says as he takes the nearly empty bottle with him.

* * *

The stench of vomit is enough to make anyone sick. Myka hasn't been able to hold a single snack down in three days. On his first day of bed rest, he slept nearly 21 hours of the day. By the second, he couldn't even lift his head from the pillow. Day three proved to be slightly better. He was able to pull himself to the bathroom where he continued to empty the contents of his stomach. He rinsed his face with cold water and would go back to bed.

Finnick had received a peculiar phone call. He was expected for a "special appointment" at one of the prestigious homes in the center of the Capitol. A black car drives up the curb and announces they will depart in an hour. Finnick treads to his bedroom where he bathes in a tub filled with a lightly musky oil that carries a concentrated scent of the ocean. He dries his body and lathers a lotion onto his skin that gives his already bronzed physique a shiny coating. He puts on a sheer golden top and tight black pants. He recognizes the client's name and decides to put on the tiniest bit of gold under his eyes to bring out the bronzed skin and dazzling green eyes. When he's dressed and ready to go, the car escorts him away.

A 25 minute drive brings him to the big mansion. If it weren't for the grim nature of his appointment, the house would be a beautiful sight. He walks into the unfamiliar home and is escorted by a voiceless girl to the third floor on the west wing. She must be an avox. She lifts three fingers and points to the right. She must mean three doors down to the right. Finnick nods at her as she walks back down the stairs without a word. Finnick hesitantly lets himself into the room where a man with dark eyes, black hair, and a strange patterned beard is waiting for him on the bed.

"Ah, Finnick Odair! I've been expecting you." He says with a smirk. He pats a spot next to him on the bed where Finnick soon joins him.

"You look… so enthralling." He says as he touches Finnick's neck and strokes his chest as he looks up and down the man's body.

"As do you, Sir Reedius Clarke." Finnick flirts back with a smirk. He hates this particular client. Of course, he isn't especially fond of any client. Being forced to act as a sex slave for President Snow never appealed to him. If President Snow hadn't threatened his family and loved ones, and successfully murdered his mother as a first and final warning after Finnick had refused a male client, he'd have never found himself in this line of work. The memory of his mother begins to dishearten him when his client rubs him between his legs.

"Take off your clothes." He purrs into the man's ear. Finnick slowly undresses when Clarke sucks on Finnick's lips, forcing his tongue an entry into his mouth. He rubs between his legs harder and faster. Finnick kisses back and rubs his hands all over Clarke's chest, eventually reaching lower and lower until he, too, is rubbing between his legs. Clarke pushes Finnick back to lie on the bed and continues to thrust his tongue in the younger man's mouth. He stops for a moment to remove his own clothing, then rubs his erection against Finnick's limp one. He looks down, disappointed.

"Sorry. Had too much wine. Have anything to help me out?" Finnick lies with a pout.

"Of course. Just a moment." Clarke leans down and kisses Finnick again before heading over to a dresser and pulling out a pill and handcuffs.

"I need some assistance too." He explains with a sinister grin. He places the tiny yellow pill on Finnick's tongue and pushes him back down into the bed. He handcuffs the man to the metal bed frame. The pill isn't like the ones Finnick has taken before; it gives him an erection, but also makes his head fuzzy. It doesn't feel right. Clarke bites down on Finnick's shoulder blade and he gasps while tugging the restraints slightly. The reaction makes Clarke more excited and he slaps the man beneath him.

"Look at my conquered champion. What are you going to do all tied up?" Male clients were always the worse. They had to dominate their victors. Clarke slapped him again. And again. When Finnick wouldn't cry out, he threw a closed fist into his eye.

"Ah!" Finnick yelped in pain. The fuzziness in his head prevented him from retaliating in any way. Clarke picks up his discarded pants and pulls the belt from the loops. It slides out with ease and he rolls it around his hand until about six inches of it hangs loosely. He throws his hand back then whips it down on Finnick's chest.

"Ahhh!" Finnick cries in pain as Clarke brings the belt down on his chest, stomach, and legs over and over again. When his body is covered in red lines, Clarke tosses the belt to the ground. He pulls Finnick's hair back and lifts his legs to wrap around his neck. His tongue traces up the young man's neck and cheek, and then there's a white hot pain.


	8. Chapter 8

Twisting and pulling against the metal restraints, Finnick's wrists are bleeding freely. Groans of pain escape his lips as he tries with all his might to get free. The drugs have successfully blurred his vision and prevent him from moving with too much strength. Clarke rams himself inside Finnick with so much force the muscles tear and bleed profusely onto his member. Finnick wails in pain as its shoved back into him, then dragged out, slammed back in, then dragged out again. White and red stars flash before his eyes before Clarke draws himself out slowly, watching the blood ooze out of Finnick and around his own hard organ. He goes back to the drawer and pulls something large out.

"Open your mouth." Clarke says as he shoves the plastic play toy down Finnick's throat. Finnick chokes on the large toy, gagging as it hits the back of his throat. Clarke pulls it out slowly, then presses it back in. After he's set a steady rhythm for a few minutes, he pushes it against the inside of his cheek and slaps the side of his face. When his cheek is beet red, he pushes the toy back down his throat and pinches his nose shut. Finnick twists and turns, trying to escape the asphyxiating hold. He pulls away with enough force to free his nostrils until Clarke's hand reach to his neck instead. The toy continues to go in and out. They can both feel it in his throat as it pushes the muscles under his grasp. The toy is taken out, but the hand stays around his throat until his eyes begin to roll up. He lets go and Finnick coughs a storm, gaping to inhale a much needed breath.

Clarke sits on Finnick's chest and pries his lips apart with his fingers. He starts to place his bloody member into Finnick's mouth when Finnick unexpectedly bites down. Clarke cries out in pain, withdraws himself and looks down at Finnick in shock. The look changes to one of complete fury. He turns Finnick's body over and forces himself into him.

Two hours had passed when Clarke finished beating and raping Finnick. He pulled out his bloody member without the slightest pang of guilt; a tacky, pearly white substance streaming from inside the man to the tip of his still-hard penis. Finnick lay beneath him bruised, bloody, and swollen.

"You may leave." Clarke dismisses Finnick as he unlocks the handcuffs and simply walks out of the room. It takes a moment for Finnick to realize it's over and he can leave. Putting his clothes back on proved to be especially strenuous tonight. The room periodically spun, trying to trick him. He trips numerous times before getting to the black car outside. Once he's in, the driver looks at him from his rearview mirror and doesn't say a word. He drives into the night. Finnick is beginning to feel queasy in the backseat and it takes all his effort not to spew in the car.

Almost half an hour later, they arrive back to the building for District 4 tributes and mentors. He scruffily exits the car and enters the building. He doesn't get far when he vomits the contents of his stomach and falls to the ground. The headache throbbed in his temples. Everything is an abstract blur. He vomits again. He feels a hand on his back and one on his chest, but can't see the source in front of him. The blurry mess in front of him spins again and dims darker and darker until everything goes black.

* * *

It's been three days since Gale and Katniss have spoken. He wanted to apologize to Katniss for having hurt her that night. He also wanted to let her know what his intentions were and that he was going to fight for her. But when he went to her room to talk, he spotted them in bed together. She seemed happy; sleeping and wrapped in his arms. Gale flung the door shut and stomped to his own room, where he slammed the door and cursed Peeta for ruining his plans. They've successfully avoided each other for three days now.

Little Marigold is struggling to walk in heels. She's been practicing for the chariot introductions. Effie encourages her to keep trying as she teaches her how to hold her skirt when she walks. Gale sits in the corner of the room where he and Haymitch are discussing the best approach for Gale's personality profile.

"You've got to think of what the Capitol wants. You need sponsors and I can't get you any if they don't like you." Haymitch reasons. Effie overhears the conversation and offers her two cents.

"Oh heavens, isn't it obvious? He's an attractive young man and the girls like him. So we make him the misunderstood bad boy!" She grins as if it were the best idea in the world. Haymitch and Gale look at one another before they burst out laughing. Effie huffs. "What? It's the best idea and you know it! Gale, darling, you're obviously not going to win anyone over with that temper of yours. So at least make it part of your act in a way that will work for you."

The men go silent. After contemplating the idea, they know it's their best option. If Gale can act the part, the tougher side should interest the male sponsors. His misunderstood persona would interest the female sponsors. He can only act so much from his true nature, and this persona wasn't far off from his true character.

"Alright, Effie. How do I do this?"

* * *

Six of the most beautiful wedding dresses fill Katniss with a hundred different emotions. Cinna watches her carefully.

"I designed about a dozen, but these were the ones President Snow liked most." He says. The hundred emotions cease to about three; anger, disgust, and panic.

"They're beautiful." She says sadly.

"I know it's a lot right now, Katniss." He puts an arm around her. "But I'm here with you every step of the way." She smiles at him. Cinna is much more than a stylist. He's one of her best friends. Then something troubles her.

"Gale-"

"I know, Katniss. I'm going to look out for him the same as I have for you. I promise." She hugs him. It's become a lot to endure; worrying about the wedding, Gale, the Games…

"He loves me, Cinna. And it's killing him that I'm marrying Peeta." She confesses. Cinna takes a moment to think it over.

"Sometimes we have to do things that hurt our loved ones. But if we don't do them, it affects them in worse ways. You're doing the best you can, Katniss. No one can fault you for protecting the people you love. Whether or not he realizes it, I know you're doing this for him, too." And Katniss feels a massive weight lifting from her chest. Cinna understood. This was hurting Gale, but it would hurt him more if she didn't go through with this wedding.

"Thank you, Cinna." He lightly squeezes her shoulder blades in a comforting gesture.

"Let's get you in these dresses and make them shine."


	9. Chapter 9

An irritated Gale lays in bed, tying complex knots with the rope in his hands when he hears someone knocking on the door. _'If it's Effie, she'd better turn around and run as fast as she can. I can't take another lesson in etiquette or proper flirtation. What the hell is that anyway? Flirting is flirting. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out.' _The knocks continue. _'Dear God, what if it's Haymitch?'_ He doesn't answer. When the hinge is softly rattled, Gale looks to the door expectantly. The last person on earth he'd expect lets himself in.

"Hey. Sorry for just coming in like this. But I was wondering if we could talk?" Gale stares at the blonde boy in front of him, completely dumbfounded.

"Uh, sure." He sits up on the bed and motions for Peeta to take a seat in the chair in front of him. Peeta nods in thanks before taking a seat.

"I just felt like we should talk about this. I know you have feelings for Katniss and its bothering you that we're getting married, but I want you to know that I really do love her."

"Peeta, I really don't wa-"

"Please let me finish. I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to take her from you. Of course I want to be with her, but this isn't how I wanted it to happen. If I was going to have her, I wanted it to be because she loved me too. Now I'll never know if I ever had a real chance with her." He pauses, looking at his hands in his lap. Gale watches him, waiting for him to continue. "I'm not marrying her because I want her. I'm marrying her because President Snow threatened the both of us. If we can't convince everyone that we threatened to kill ourselves in the Games if we couldn't both be crowned victors because we were so madly in love with one another and not because we were looking to start a riot, he'll kill everyone we ever loved. Our families, our friends, anyone we care about. For Katniss, that means protecting her mom, Prim, and it means protecting you." He looks up at Gale.

"Katniss means everything to me. If I mess this up, hurting her will be the quickest way to hurt me. I love my family, but it would kill me to see everything taken from her. I would never forgive myself if you were killed, Gale. I don't know what it would do to her, but I would never wish anything like that to ever happen."

Gale glances away from Peeta, staring at the space in front of him. The information sinks little by little. He brings his folded hands from his lap to his mouth where he considers everything Peeta just said. He squints in concentration and lets the words flow carefully.

"I love her, Peeta. I've been by her side for a long time, and I know her. She won't be happy with you." His brows wrinkle in concentration. He expects the boy in front of him to get upset, shout, maybe even offer to settle things physically. He doesn't.

"I know." Peeta looks as if he'll break down. "But I want this to be her decision, not mine. I'd rather her be unhappy with me than miserable and broken-hearted alone." The words shock Gale. Peeta was… too good of a person. It's then he realizes that no matter what decision Katniss made, it hurt everyone. She chose the least selfish option, as did Peeta. He doesn't want to hear anymore.

"I think you should leave now." The words aren't malicious. He just wanted to be alone. Peeta nods his head before leaving the room.

Gale's heart sinks. This had become more complicated than he anticipated. He picks up a glass sitting on the nightstand next to his bed and throws it at the wall. It shatters into numerous bits and pieces.

Just like his insides.

* * *

Peeta enters the room he and Katniss have been sharing. She jolts from the bed when she sees him.

"Peeta! I was wondering where you were." She says, unsure. Peeta runs his hand through his hair.

"I was just talking to Portia. She came by and wanted to get some measurements really quick. I'm sorry if I worried you." He's a great liar. Katniss doesn't question it. She offers him a small smile and he sits on the bed. She lays back down on her pillow, looking up at him. He strokes her hair, longingly. His blue eyes sparkle when she smiles. Then her face changes to one of perplexity. She takes his hand in her own, preventing him from brushing her hair anymore.

"Peeta… why do you love me?" The question startles him slightly. He doesn't know how to answer her question. How do you explain to someone your love for them?

"I've loved you for a long time, Katniss. But to ask me why is like asking why the sky is blue or why your favorite bread is cheese pastry. I think you're beautiful. And strong. You have a good heart and you really care about the people you love. You're special, Katniss. I wish I could explain how, but it's so complex. _You're_ complex, but in a good way. Like a chocolate mould. It's not the easiest thing to work with, but once you understand it, you can make any type of mould you can possibly dream of and it's the best part of the cake!" His explanation makes Katniss laugh. She'd never heard anyone describe love by comparing it to bread. He blushes. Their hands find each other's and their fingers entwine. This is the softest side of Katniss he's ever seen.

"I don't… I don't know how to love, Peeta. I don't even know how to make friends. But marrying you-" She pauses, staring at their hands. "Peeta, I never wanted to get married and I'm scared." She begins to cry. He holds her and strokes her back. She stops sobbing, looks into his worried eyes. She takes a breath and whispers to him.

"But I'm glad it was you."

* * *

The surroundings don't make sense when Finnick awakes to find himself in a warm bed with a cold cloth on his forehead. He looks to his right to find a small table with gauze, a bowl filled with bloody water and a washcloth, a bowl with clear water, cotton, ointment, and his old clothes freshly washed from blood and vomit. He looks down to see his wounds have been carefully attended to. Then he looks to his left where he sees a much stronger, slightly muscular Myka sleeping next to him. The evidence of his abuse had vanished completely. He looked to be a compelling, strong young man. Yet, he still carried the essence of an innocent and kind being.

No one ever tended to Finnick without expecting something in return. He felt a strange attachment and longing for the boy that lay right by him. But those feelings were conflicted and confused. What did the boy mean to him? Before letting his mind boggle with questions, he lay back down and falls asleep.

_The sun shines bright on this hot, summer day. The sparkling blue ocean crashes to the shore in an uproar. Annie Cresta sits on the beach, combing her fingers through her dark, wet hair. Finnick watches her from a distance. He doesn't want to approach her right away. It seems somehow inappropriate._

_ Since coming back from the Games, Annie has been labeled "mad" and is often times avoided. Instead of upsetting her, she feels more at peace. It's difficult to be around people now, especially larger crowds. She prefers to be alone by the water. Finnick had noticed her many times before, but it wasn't until recently that she really captured his attention. Something about her was different today, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He takes a breath and walks over to her. She looks up at him, their green eyes caught in a trance. Then the strangest thing happens; she smiles at him. He smiles back and takes a seat next to her. They do not exchange words, but their thoughts are the same. It's a comfortable silence as they watch the waves crash amongst the shore._

_ It was the first time Finnick felt something for her._

_ She stands up and looks at him. A captivating smile reflects his own before she laughs and runs toward the sea. Finnick races up and follows her. They jump into the water and swim for what seems like hours until the sun sets. The water is beginning to get cold and they make their way back to the warm sand. Finnick grabs his button-up shirt and places it on her shoulders. She accepts the garment and tightens the fabric around her body. They walk to a large log and take a seat, staring off to the horizon where a cloudless sky fills with yellow, pink, purple, and blue. Finnick kisses her cheek and she touches her hand where he placed his lips. She looks back at him and scoots over until she is wrapped and secured in his arms, placing her head on his chest._

_ The realm beyond them is beautiful and they're suddenly some place away from the rest of the world. It's calm, safe, and perfect in every way._


	10. Chapter 10

There is an uncomfortable silence in the room. No one has an appetite to eat the big breakfast that lays before them. Effie smears strawberry jam on her toast, flipping the knife back and forth over and over again. Haymitch is in another universe; he hasn't had anything to drink yet. The food does not look appetizing. Sweet little Marigold is the only one who does not let the tension effect her stomach. She eats scrambled eggs and sausage. Peeta stares at Katniss, whom taps her fingers on the table anxiously.

"Katniss," Peeta coos softly, "are you alright?"

She ignores him, tapping her fingers against the wooden table.

"Where's Gale?" She asks suddenly.

"He's just thinking some things over, Katniss. Here, have some toast." Peeta offers. She smacks his hand away and rises from her seat.

"I'm going to go talk to him." She states flatly. Peeta grabs her wrist, preventing her from leaving the room.

"Katniss, don't." He says simply.

"Why not?" She demands.

"Trust me sweetheart, you're the last person he needs to be seeing right now." Haymitch answers. She hisses at his response and jerks her hand from Peeta. She stomps to Gale's room and pounds on the door. No answer. She pounds again.

"Gale! We need to talk!" She shouts. When she still receives no reply, she swings the door open to find there's no one in the room.

"Gale?" She tries again. But there is no one to answer her. _'Where could he go?'_ She ponders for a moment. _'The roof!'_ and she's swiftly racing up the stairs to the exit. She opens the door.

"Gale." She calls. She looks around her, but he's not up here either. She slams the door with an open hand in frustration and leans against the wall. She decides to stay there, letting the cool air steadily calm her.

* * *

Peeta excuses himself from the table to find Katniss.

"Teenagers." Haymitch puffs before pouring much needed vodka into his orange juice. Effie and Marigold don't say a thing. They eat their breakfast in silence. When they're finished eating, Marigold wanders back to her room. She opens the door to see Gale sitting on the ground.

"Why are you in my room?" The words shock Gale. He didn't think Marigold would be back for a few more hours. He sighs.

"I was trying to hide from Katniss. Sorry for sneaking into your room." He fumbles with his thumbs, then puts his hands to his sides to lift himself up and out of the room when Marigold takes a seat right next to him.

"Why are you hiding from Katniss? Are you in trouble?" Her innocent curiosity reminds Gale of his brothers back home. He smiles at her.

"Something like that. How are you, little one?" She shrugs her shoulders.

"Okay, I guess. I wonder what Cinna and Portia will make us look like tomorrow. Daddy gave me a necklace to wear. Do you want to see it?" She beams in excitement.

"Sure." He smiles. She takes off to the drawer next to her bed and pulls out a simple silver chain with a single tiny diamond heart.

"It was my mom's. She died when I was born. Daddy gave it to me before we left. He said I can wear it for my token."

"It's beautiful."

"Thanks." She grins. "Did your dad give you anything before we left?"

"My father died in a coal mining accident a few years ago. But my mother gave me this." He offers his left hand to her where his token clings to his wrist.

"She gave you a watch?" She asks in confusion. Why would anyone need to know the time in the Games?

"That's what I thought, too. But look-" Gale turns the knob and the locket snaps open. He points at the picture on the left. "That's my family. My mother, my father, and my brothers."

"Who's the baby in the other picture?" She asks curiously.

"It's me." He answers. Marigold smiles at him. She's so sweet. A genuine smile appears on his lips. For the first time in a long time, his anger subsides and he enjoys the company of someone next to him.

* * *

It's almost noon when Finnick wakes from his slumber. Myka had woken up some time ago; his side of the bed was cold. Finnick gingerly steps out of the bed feeling much better than he expected. He puts on the clothes Myka had left out for him; a gray tank and jade green pants. Finnick smiles when he realizes how simple Myka's selections are. He walks out into the dining room where Myka, Mattie, and Porpoise are eating sandwiches and fruit. They look up at him when they realize he is in the room. Porpoise's mouth gapes open when she notices the bandaged wrists and black eye. Mattie and Myka simply smile.

"How are you feeling?" Mattie asks tenderly. She's very aware of Finnick's situation with President Snow, but never asks about it. She had a similar deal with President Snow when she was a young, new victor.

"Fine. What are we having?" Finnick responds with a nod.

"A good lunch. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat." Mattie smiles before leaving the room.

"Thanks, Mats." Finnick smiles and takes a seat next to Myka. He picks up Myka's glass of juice and helps himself to a taste of the sweet, fruity liquid.

"What happened to your eye?" Porpoise asks suddenly. Finnick tries to think up a story, anything but the truth.

"He got into a brawl with some guy that had too much to drink. The guy slapped his girlfriend and Finnick went to her aid and took care of business." Myka answered for him. Finnick was thankful for the cover up, especially giving him a good story and not some bullshit about falling down the stairs or running into a door. He runs his hand through this auburn hair and laughs with a charming smile.

"Yeah. It was a long night." He validates. Porpoise grins at the information. Finnick wasn't just charming and attractive, but protective and strong, which made him that much more sexy. She flips her hair behind her ear and smirks seductively. Mattie appears with a plate in her hand when the television screen on the wall jumbles into static before broadcasting breaking news. A woman with big, blonde and pink hair appears on the screen with a view of a burning building behind her. She announces that oil had accidently caught fire when a spark ignited from an electrical outlet and created a freak accident, burning down the building. A young woman died in the fire. Finnick stands up and leans closer to the screen, observing the building by the pier. It's extremely familiar when Finnick realizes he knows the building. It's his family's fishing shop in District 4. The woman continues to describe the scene behind her.

"…at 6am this morning. The body of Annie Cresta, victor of the Hunger Games, was discovered in the debris…"

The color drains from Finnick's face. Then the woman interviews a small boy. It's Finnick's nephew. The words are muted in his mind when he realizes what happened. The message is clear: Your client told me what happened. This is your punishment. If you're thinking about doing anything about it, remember that I still have access to your family.

Mattie drops the plate of food when Finnick begins to hyperventilate. Myka runs to his aid when he begins to fall forward, lifting him up and escorting him back to the room where Finnick pushes the boy off of him and slams him into the closed door with a loud thud. He picks up anything and everything he can get his hands on and breaks it. He smashes the television with a nightstand, shatters the lamp against the door, and cracks the wall where he throws his fists into it. When his knuckles are white and bloody, he stops and falls to the ground. Myka cautiously walks over to him. He takes a seat in front of him and they stare into each other's eyes when Finnick notices they've changed to the most beautiful ice blue and violet. It finally hits him that they change according to whatever Myka is feeling. _'What does blue and violet mean anyway?'_ His question is answered when a single tear drops down Myka's cheek and he clings to Finnick as if for dear life.

Finnick hesitates before returning the embrace. He runs his fingers through Myka's dark black hair for a few minutes when he grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him away. He's about to ask Myka to leave when he notices a bruise forming on his arm. He must have shoved him into the door pretty hard. A look of guilt plasters his face when he looks up at Myka's sad, concerned one. They stare at each other before Finnick unexpectedly smashes his lips against Myka's.


	11. Chapter 11

Recollections of their trips into the woods fills Katniss with a certain sadness. What happened between her and her best friend? She used to be able to go to him for anything. Now he refuses to see her at all. Maybe this was all a bad idea. She closes her eyes and lets the memories consume her.

_She was back home, in the woods of District 12, a bow in hand. She takes small, quiet steps on the balls of her feet towards a small lake. A rabbit munches on short grass by the water. She carefully pulls an arrow from the pouch on her back. Then, with all her focus, she points the arrow at her target with the bow. She pulls the string back slowly. Two small rabbits appear from the taller grass. They hop by their mother, bouncing around and eating grass.. Katniss softens her grip on the arrow. She watches them for a moment before pulling the string back. But she can't let go._

_ "I've heard people say 'a woman can kill just by one look,' but I don't think they meant literally." She turns around to see Gale smirking at her. How long has he been there? And why couldn't she ever tell when he was sneaking up on her?_

_ "Gale!" She squeaks._

_ "Hey Catnip." She rolls her eyes at the nickname. The first day they met in the woods, he asked what her name was. But she answered so low that he thought she said 'Catnip' and it's earned her the nickname since. She looks back where the rabbits were. They're long gone._

_ "You scared my game away!" She shrieks. Gales laughs at her. He pulls his bag from around his shoulder._

_ "Help me skin these, will you?" And he pulls out five rabbits and a couple of squirrels. It was a good catch. Spring was always the best time to hunt._

_ "Don't think I came here empty handed." Katniss grabs her own bag and pulls out four squirrels, a rabbit, blackberries, and wild onion. They share a smile before skinning the game in their bags. They always worked best in a pair._

_ "We're keeping that ugly cat." She says. Gale chuckles at her._

_ "What?"_

_ "Prim fell in love with the thing. She named him Buttercup." Now he's bursting out in laughter._

_ "Congrats on earning one more mouth to feed." He snickers. Katniss was glad she wasn't the only one seeing the dilemma with that putrid creature. She never understood why Prim loved it so much; it was ugly, it smelled, and it didn't really do any good for the house, save maybe killing a rat here and there._

_ "Who knows? Maybe he can learn to cook us up a good rat stew." It was a terrible joke, but the two of them laugh as if it were the greatest thing they'd heard._

The tears begin to fall down her cheeks. She feels a warm body next to her own and sees Peeta by her side. He hands her a bundled cloth. She opens it to see sweets rolls, fruit, and bacon inside. She smiles at the food.

"Thank you, Peeta."

* * *

Gale sits in his room, demonstrating how to make a simple snare for Marigold. She watches in fascination. When he's done, he hands her the rope to practice. For seeing something like this for the first time, she's doing well. After the fifth attempt, she's finally able to replicate the snare.

"Great job." Gale says. She beams in delight.

"Can I take this with me and practice more?" She asks shyly.

"Sure. Take it with you." And with that, she skips out of the room, tying and untying the rope. Gale shakes his head in amusement when it dawns on him that he shouldn't be getting so close to her. In a few days, they'll be competing for their lives. He knows she won't survive long, but he won't be the one to end her life. He hopes he's far away from her when it happens so he won't have to witness it.

_Sniff. 'What the hell? Is that me?'_ Gale lifts his arm and smells himself. He takes off his shirt and tosses it to the ground. He stands and pulls his pants down, kicking it off to a corner of the room. Then he walks over to the shower where he plays with the knobs and dials until he's satisfied with the temperature. He lazily slips out of his undergarments and kicks that to a corner as well. Then he steps into the sizzling shower and all his muscles relax under the hot water.

_'I hope those outfits turn out as good as last year's.'_

* * *

He realizes he'll never be what Annie was to Finnick, or anything more than his second choice derived from the pain and loneliness of losing his love. But this is the first time anyone has let him love them. Myka was never allowed to have any friends or loved ones. He was starved for attention. Sometimes, when his father would hit him, he'd refuse to cry out until he was so severely beaten that his father would feel the tiniest fragment of pity and brush his hand against the boy's hair or face and say, "I wish you wouldn't make me hit you." One night, he walked into his father's room completely naked and stood by the bed while his father eyed him up and down. He never touched him, but Myka could see he wanted to. He didn't love his father, didn't even feel desire for him; he just wanted to feel wanted. He curls deeper into the crook of Finnick's neck.

Finnick awakes several hours later to find himself on the ground with Myka curled into his arms. He looks down at the boy and tenderly smoothes down his hair. Myka squirms and opens his drowsy eyes, looking straight at the man before him. Finnick gasps. Violet. His eyes are violet. They're beautiful; unlike anything Finnick has ever seen. Myka gives him a puzzled look, his brows furrowed in confusion. A golden-brown hand caresses the pale cheek and their lips meet. The kiss is gentle. Finnick begs entrance to Myka's mouth with his tongue, softly pressing the muscle between the crook of his lips. There is a moment of hesitation before Myka allows it access into his mouth and gingerly laps it with his own tongue. His cheeks flush a pinkish-red.

When the kiss becomes more fervent, he locks his arms around Finnick's neck, resulting in being pushed onto his back when a larger, stronger Finnick lay on top of him. He wraps his legs around the man's hips when Finnick grinds his body into him. The younger man lets out a small grunt. Finnick grinds into him again, his erection pressing against the young man beneath him. Myka pants in excitement, his breathing erratic and growing in pace. Noticing how excited Myka was getting, Finnick takes off his own shirt and crashes his lips into the boy's again. He kisses down his mouth, his chin, his neck, and runs his kisses to the bottom hem of Myka's shirt. He pulls the shirt up and kisses the center of his chest, works his way to the light brown nipples where he lingers and bites down before sucking it into his mouth. Myka gasps while trying to figure out where to put his hands. They move to the sides of his head, above his head, then tangle into Finnick's hair.

Finnick's hands begin to travel as well. They start on Myka's waist, grab onto his hips, then his right hand slides between Myka's legs. He rubs Myka until he feels the rocking of his hips. Myka is thrusting himself against Finnick's hand. Finnick takes the invitation and unbuckles Myka's pants, easily sliding them down his thighs. Before Myka can object, he begins to rub him again. Myka's head rolls back as he lets out a heated whine. Then he cries out when he feels his underwear being pulled down and his impressive length being stroked up and down. Finnick gazes at Myka in sheer lust, watching him buck beneath him, cheeks red and brows furrowed. He wants more of him. He leans down and shares another eager kiss.

The room is unbelievably warm. Finnick continues to stroke Myka with one hand and begins to pull down the green pants and undergarment Myka had laid out for him earlier with the other one. When he manages to pull the garments down to his knees, he kicks them off, then proceeds to pull off Myka's remaining clothing from around his thighs. The heated kisses continue. After several minutes, Finnick breaks away from the kiss and presses his middle and pointer finger against Myka's lips. Myka kisses the fingers then lets them slide into his mouth. They dance and massage his tongue for a short moment when Finnick pulls them out and smacks his lips against Myka's again. He pulls Myka's body to him and his hand travels down the younger man's back, lower and lower until he reaches the ring of muscles he attempts to press his middle finger into.

Myka abruptly breaks away from the kiss with a jolt, pressing his body closer to Finnick and further from his hand. It isn't that he doesn't want this, but his wide violet and yellow eyes tells Finnick that he's scared.

"Myka, are you a virgin?" He smirks with boyish half-grin. Myka looks down in embarrassment and nods slowly. His sudden shyness causes Finnick's lower region to pulsate with yearning.

"You know, it's taking everything in me not to take you right now." He purrs into Myka's ear. "I want you so bad. But I'll wait until you're ready." He murmurs and playfully bites Myka's earlobe. Myka doesn't know what to say, so he rubs his face against Finnick's and plants soft kisses on his neck. Their lips meet again until they gradually break away. Sea green eyes meet light violet ones. Finnick is caught in a trance.

"I love your eyes."


	12. Chapter 12

Chariot introductions are always a difficult time for the tributes. Having the right introduction can make or break you with any sponsors. Most of the tributes appear bored, but closer inspection shows apprehension, excitement, and even jealousy of their competition. Everyone waits in line; District 1 tributes in the front, District 12 to the back. They are given a short moment with their stylists before the show.

Myka can't hide the fact that he is terrified. He stares at the ground, his eyes green with yellow and orange specks. He shifts from foot to foot. This was never a good sign for any tribute. Appearing scared meant looking weak. If you looked weak, you lost sponsors. One of his stylists, Poenia, takes note of his behavior and races off into the auditorium to find the mentors' section. Finnick and Mattie sit next to one another and are talking casually to another group of mentors from District 5.

"Finnick! I'm sorry to bother you, but we're having a little malfunction with the wardrobe and could use your help." At this, Finnick gives her a questioning look. The mentors around are curious as well. What could a mentor do with wardrobe that the stylists couldn't?

"It's a little embarrassing, but we can't tie knots like you can." She adds, noting the stares from the other mentors. She can't let them know that Myka is scared; it would make him an easy target. Finnick takes the hint, laughs and runs his hand through his hair, as he always does. It was a charming signature.

"No problem! These hands get practice." He winks before walking away with the stylist. Mattie pulls the attention from the other mentors, continuing on in their discussions as they accept the lie.

Finnick and Poenia make it to the tributes. She smiles and mouths a "good luck" as he makes his way to his pupil, whose back is faced toward him. He reaches for Myka's shoulder and he suddenly swirls around, ready to attack.

"I'm sorry!" The wide yellow-green eyes slightly fade to a turquoise when he realizes he almost hit his mentor. _'That would have been great. Finally get rid of the black eye and give him a fresh new one.'_

"I'm fine, Myka. But you need to relax. Everyone is watching you; the Capitol, sponsors, Gamemakers, even the other tributes. Don't give them a reason to think you're weak. You're not. And while I know it, these people won't until they see it from you." Myka nods in understanding. He stands straighter, forces himself to not look down.

"Good. Remember to work with the crowd and show them what they want. You know they want you, they know they want you." He whispers in Myka's ear. "Make them beg for it." He lightly touches underneath the net fabric that barely covers Myka's groin. "I'll be watching you from the crowd. I'll see you as soon as it's over." He turns to walk away. Myka looks forward, more focused.

"Oh, and Myka-" He looks back at his mentor. Finnick raises an eyebrow and says with a half-smirk on his face, "Love the outfit. I can't wait to rip it off you." Finnick winks and scurries back to his post. Myka blushes a deep red as a couple of the other tributes look his way. He looks in front of him, avoiding any possible stares that might be thrown in his direction. With the exception of the few that just witnessed the show, the other tributes are too preoccupied with themselves to notice anything.

* * *

Marigold stands on her tiptoes, trying to sneak a peek at the crowd. She's folding her hands together in anxiety. Gale looks down at her and tries to calm her.

"Don't be so nervous. They're all here to see you because they like you. And you look so beautiful." He says with a smile. Marigold immediately feels calmer. She grins with excitement. Cinna approaches them with a small, black canister in his hands.

"Hi Marigold. You are so enchanting right now. Everyone is going to love you. I'm going to spray you both with something. I'm going to warn you, it smells a little funny at first, but it will go away. Your skin will glow, but it's completely safe. Don't worry about the sparks either." '_Sparks? What sparks?'_ The anthem starts and Cinna sprays a light mist on both the tributes. He's right, it does smell funny; like overly sweet fruit and charcoal. But, just as promised, the smell immediately disperses. The introductions have begun and the first chariot enters the auditorium.

The tributes of District 1 ride out dressed in beautiful tunics adorned with jewels. Their skin is painted silver. The Capitol roars is approval. District 1 has always been a favorite of the Capitol. Following suit is District 2, then 3, then 4 and so on until the horses of 12's chariot begin to trot. The crowd looks to their chariot, anticipating what Cinna has created this year. Last year, District 12 were known as the tributes on fire. This year, they _are_ fire. Their skin is painted in a sheer gold, with just enough makeup to bring out their features. Marigold looks like an angel from another realm; she glows a soft golden hue and blue sparks and white smoke appear as wings behind her back. She's wearing a long, flowing black dress. She smiles and waves to the crowd. Gale, too, looks like something beyond anyone's dreams. His tall, masculine figure radiates with a remarkable glow. He wears black pants that showcase his build. His shoulders spark white and yellow like a God of lightning and fire. He stands tall and looks to be untouchable. Everyone goes wild.

The cameras showcase all the tributes. They stop to look at District 1 with their beautiful outfits. Then they rest again on the sex symbols of District 4, dressed in finely woven gold nets and an incredible display of colorful starfish. The starfish cover one side of Porpoise's breasts, making a beautiful curve around her neck and across her hip. The rest of her femininity is covered with the attractive net. Myka wears the net around his waist with the starfish forming a simple necklace. The cameras continue on and halt on District 12, whom grab the majority of their attention. Then they linger to the crowds, a quick display of Katniss and Peeta holding hands in the stands, watching the chariots. They're dressed in beautiful black garments with matching necklaces that spark; one of Cinna's clever designs.

When all the chariots reach the end of the auditorium, Cinna and Portia spray Marigold and Gale, and the sparks stop. Gale looks to his side and smirks when he sees the other tributes are glaring at him in envy. The large screens around the auditorium showcase all the tributes one last time, from District 1 to District 12. The crowd goes wild, cheering the tributes on with excitement.


	13. Chapter 13

The tributes are escorted to a room with four elevators. Six tributes are hastily shoved inside each of them. The female tributes of Districts 3, 5, 8, and 12; and the male tributes of Districts 4 and 12 are shoved into the third elevator. They all glance at each other, taking in their competition. The female tributes are staring at the male tributes in awe. Confused, Gale is the first to speak.

"What?" He says surprisingly. He doesn't understand why they're staring at him.

"Gale," Marigold starts, "you guys look so much alike!" Gale looks to his left, Myka to his right when they take in one another.

"Wow." The female tribute of District 3 whispers in shock and satisfaction. Myka's eyes begin to change erratically; the yellow specks turn to silver and violet, the green irises to gray. _'What the hell is going on?'_ They stare at each other for a moment. Although their hair, skin, and eye colors were different from one another, they still had very similar features: the same full, pouty lips; the same eye shape; the same high cheek bones; the same strong jaw; they were even nearly the same height. _'Is this some kind of joke?'_ Whatever the case was, it's short lived when the elevator comes to a halt. Nobody exits immediately; A guard has to come in and pull them by the arms. Myka walks away slowly after the guard has let him go. Gale, on-the-other-hand, yanks his arm away and snarls, "Don't touch me."

"Aw shit." Haymitch rubs his left temple and shakes his head. "There's that temper again."

All of the tributes are waiting in a room; their stylists and mentors standing on the other side, watching them. A Gamemaker with a uniquely patterned beard, dressed in a dark blue suit walks in and introduces himself.

"Welcome, tributes, to the 74th Annual Hunger Games. My name is Seneca Crane and I am the head Gamemaker this year. I just wanted to lay out some simple rules and give you all an understanding of what will happen from here on out. After this assembly, you will be meeting with your mentors and stylists to change into your training gear. You will be training for three days. When those three days are up, you will demonstrate your skills to a group of Gamemakers. We will decide on your score. You may earn anything between a 1 and 12. The higher the score, the better. The day after your scores are evaluated, you will partake in an interview. The day after the interview is the day of the Games. Your mentors will keep you updated with specific times.

"Some things to keep in mind: we do not tolerate fights between tributes. Should you decide to cause harm to another tribute during training, the consequences will be grave. Do exactly as you are told, and everything will run smoothly. Now, please find your mentors and stylists. You will be meeting in the training center in an hour. Good luck." Seneca exits the room and the tributes walk to their mentors and stylists.

* * *

"Did you see the tribute from District 4? He looks just like Gale!" Marigold shrieks. "Oh! And his eyes! They were so pretty. Did you see how they changed colors?"

"I'm sure they were lovely, Marigold." Cinna smiles. "But let's gets you ready for training. Come with me and we'll wash off your makeup." He holds out his hand and the small girl takes it in her own. They walk into another room to wash up and change.

Portia makes her way to Gale with a set of clothes in her hands.

"The room to the right is yours. Wash up and change into these." She hands him the clothing. Gale nods at her, appreciating the fact that no one would be dressing him this time. He was still furious with the stylist that had him drugged. He begins to walk towards the room when he stops in his tracks.

"Katniss-" He starts when Portia cuts him off.

"She's fine, Gale. She and Peeta are doing another interview. We're hoping to get you more sponsors. They'll be back at the living quarters tonight." She explains. He nods in understanding and disappears into the other room.

* * *

Myka is directed to a changing room on his left.

"We'll be in shortly." Vernalli says. Myka walks into the room, gently closing the door behind him when he feels someone grab his hands, spin him around, and push his body into the closed door, pinning his arms above his head.

"Finally!" Finnick murmurs huskily before diving his lips to Myka's. Their lips smack as Finnick immediately begs entrance into the younger man's mouth. His libido is in high drive as he thrusts his hips into Myka's. When he has the younger man panting heavily, he pulls him away from the door and begins to untie the net around Myka's waist. It falls to the ground and Finnick attacks his mouth with his own again. Myka tries to hide his exposed body, feeling extremely shy. It only increases Finnick's need to touch him; to have him completely. He presses his body against Myka's again, pushing him into the wall. Myka gasps when he feels Finnick's pulsing member push against his inner thigh.

The door opens and Vernalli abruptly halts in his steps. Myka's wide eyes change from intense violet to bright green, yellow, and orange; cheeks burning red in embarrassment. Finnick smirks at the stylist and turns back to Myka. He pecks him on the lips before stepping back.

"What's the matter, Vernalli?" He slowly approaches the shocked stylist. "Do you see something… distracting?" He purrs.

* * *

As soon as the tributes enter, the careers make their way to the battle weapons. They quickly grab whatever artillery looks the most dangerous; maces, swords, knives, daggers. They display their skills, intimidating the other tributes. Gale remembers the advice Haymitch had given him and looks for stations that he doesn't know much about, avoiding giving away his skills to the other tributes. He goes to the plant identification station.

Hunting in the woods, he considers himself pretty skilled at identifying what plants are edible or toxic. But these plants are different. He recognizes a few of them, but there are plenty he's never seen before. The trainer begins to direct him to which plants are edible, pointing at different greenery. Then he points out which plants should be steered clear of, though they unfortunately look very similar to the edible grasses. Gale focuses on each of them as best he can, finding tiny differences in the veins of the plants. Truthfully, he didn't think he'd be able to remember these plants very well. Hopefully the arena would have more plants that he was familiar with.

After spending an hour with the plants, he looks to his left to see what other stations were available. Snares. He was always extremely skilled with snares, but decided to see if he could learn a new one or two. He walks over to the station and watches the trainer build a simple snare. Gale ignores the invitation to recreate it and builds a much more complex trap. The trainer grins when he notices how skilled Gale is with the snares and decides to show him one of his most difficult traps. Gale's hands instantly get to work when he suddenly notices something strange. The career tributes are whispering to each other, continuously looking back at a particular station to Gale's left. Curiosity gets the best of him and he looks toward fire building station.

* * *

Myka observes the trainer constructing a fire. It looks simple enough. He takes the sticks and lays them down carefully. When they're grouped the way the trainer had originally shown him, he takes one of the twigs, placing it carefully between his hands and the group of branches, and rubs until a small flicker of light appears. Success. The trainer applauds his work and hands him two pieces of white quartzite. He explains that hitting one against the other will create sparks and a much quicker fire. Myka taps the rocks, attempting to start a spark when the careers make their way to his station.

"Hey, little mermaid. Careful with that. You might burn your pretty face and then nobody will want you." A tall, muscular tribute mocks. The other careers laugh hysterically. Myka ignores them and hits the stones together again. They throw sparks into the wood and create a small fire. Satisfied with his work, Myka moves to the next table; fishing gear. The pack of careers follow him. The tall, blonde tribute patronizes him again.

"Where you going, little mermaid? Oh! The fishing gear. How cute. Is that what your mentor wants? I'm sure you both get a lot of practice. Don't get caught in the nets!" The laughter starts again. Myka observes the different equipment. There are dozens of different hooks, spears, ropes, nets, even a trident. Remembering that Finnick had used one to win the Games the year he was crowned victor, he picks it up and examines it. A couple of Gamemakers that had been passing by suddenly stop to watch the tributes, unnoticed.

"So you _are_ trying to impress him! You see that guys? We've got another Finnick Odair on our hands. Hey, little mermaid! I hear your mentor likes having sailors in his boat- is it the same for you? I'm sure everyone would love another Capitol whore in their beds." A roar of laughter. The careers are slapping their knees, cackling loudly when a trident goes soaring through the air and the lead career tribute is caught to the wall; the forks of the trident on each side of his neck and around his left hand. Silence fills the room as everyone stares at Myka, his bright yellow wolf-like eyes like a predator on his prey.


	14. Chapter 14

A bell sounds, signaling it's time for lunch. The female Career tribute of District 2 tugs the trident repeatedly, trying to get her fellow tribute out of its grasp. It takes two more helping bodies to pry the trident out of the wood.

"You okay, Cato?" She asks. He glares at her.

"Fine. You guys go. I'll meet up with you soon." The trainers and other tributes have already left the room, not wanting to be involved with the fight. Gale is the last to leave before the Careers, looking at Myka curiously before exiting. The Careers leave without a word. The situation was embarrassing. Cato stares at Myka, who's picking up the hooks that had fallen to the ground when the trainer spooked. He makes his way to his new archenemy.

Myka has just picked up the last of the hooks and placed them on the table when he turns around and smacks into Cato. Cato shoves him to the ground and topples over him.

"You're going to regret that, lover boy." Cato snarls. Myka submits a sinister smirk in response. "What's with the smile, whore? You're not in much of a position to be so pleased."

"You know what your problem is, Cato?" Myka purrs.

"What's that?" Cato asks, his face centimeters from Myka's.

"You're not very observant." Myka whispers. Cato feels a tapping to his groin. He looks down to see the tribute pinned beneath him has a sharp hook pointed as his crotch. The color from his face drains, then turns red with rage. He wrinkles his nose.

"Before this is all over, I'm going to make everyone see the whore that you are."

"Good luck… sweetheart." Myka sneers. A guard walks in when he notices two of the tributes are absent from lunch.

"Hey! What's going on over there?" He shouts. Cato gets off Myka immediately, wiping the dust from his jumpsuit. Myka hides the hook into his boot and lifts himself from the ground.

"Ran into each other is all." Cato answers. The guard looks at Myka for validation, who nods his head in agreement.

"Alright then. Get to the lunch room now; both of you." He barks. The two tributes calmly walk out of the training center, down a long corridor. The walls and tile are a smooth white. They reach the end leading to two large doors. They swing the doors open and enter the lunch room. Cato immediately takes a seat with the other Careers. They laugh and chat as if they are good friends. It makes Myka sick, how they pretend to be best friends before entering an arena where they will positively turn on each other and eventually kill one another. He takes a seat at an empty table by himself, furthest away from all the tributes.

* * *

An observant Gale takes in the scene. It was odd; District 4 tributes were always part of the Career pack. The female tribute seemed to be getting along with them easily enough, though he suspected it might have something to do with her beauty rather than skills. She flirts with the male Careers and gossips with the female Careers as if they are best friends. _'So why won't they accept the male tribute from District 4?'_ he wonders to himself.

_'Maybe I can create some sort of alliance with him. He's obviously good with the trident. He'll probably be good with spears or throwing knives. Between the two of us, we could work with any weapon. I doubt he knows anything about snares or bow and arrows. Should I approach him now? But wait- the Careers don't want him in their alliance. Why? Because he's a threat? If that's the case, having him on my side could prove useful. But if they don't trust him, why the hell should I? Come to think of it, that Cato is probably the biggest competition here. He can fight with swords and knives really well. Not to mention, the fucker is crazy. Whatever the problem he has with the District 4 tribute is, it looks personal. I think it's best if I stay as far from him as possible.'_

Gale's mind is made up. He looks around at the other tributes, trying to see what kind of alliances might already be made. Aside from the Careers, all the other tributes seem to be alone. He can't pretend to be friends with someone and kill them later in the arena. And he can't put himself in a situation where he'll be specifically targeted. He decides that an alliance of any kind is out of the question.

The bell rings again, signaling it's time to go back to the training center before the day is complete. All the tributes throw out their trash and head back to the training room. They have two hours left of the day. Gale takes the opportunity to try and learn more at the plant identification station, realizing it might be the most helpful hint as to what to expect in the arena.

* * *

Seneca has learned a great deal about the new tribute of District 4, and yet still knows nothing about him. His informant reports that Myka is an only child. He lives alone with his father, an abusive alcoholic. He's shy and quiet in school, doesn't communicate with the other students or teachers. When school is out, he's home. The district knows very little about him. Most are oblivious to his existence. No word on the mother; she's probably dead. The only time he is ever seen outdoors is late at night when the district is sleeping. It's darkest when he swims in the ocean by his home, far from any neighboring houses or beaches, alone.

Myka does not have any friends. He doesn't have any known hobbies or skills. The few teachers that had any concerns for the boy noticed numerous unexplained bruises, welts, burns, and broken bones over the years. Myka does not communicate with anyone, and so investigations are never made. No one is able to document a report because he does not confide in anyone. He's had one pet- a baby turtle he rescued from the seagulls. It's rumored that his father killed it one day when he stepped on it and his son pushed him away, trying to protect it. He had stood up to his father, a mistake he never made a second time. He's never had a girlfriend, though he had once shown interest in a medium-brown haired, blue-eyed boy in his class in the seventh grade. When people started to catch on to the stares and blushes, he came to school with a black eye, busted lip, and wore long-sleeved shirts for two weeks of the hottest summer. He never looked at the boy, or anyone else for that matter, again.

Until Finnick came into the picture.

* * *

Seneca Crane and Finnick Odair are sitting in a small conference room. The walls are made with polished oak, adorned with various books. The dark blue carpet compliments the various objects sitting on maple desks and tables. Finnick shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with his visit. He's never been called for a meeting by a Gamemaker concerning his tribute. He felt like a child who was awaiting a visit from his principal after getting into some sort of trouble. Seneca crosses his left leg over his right ankle. Finnick's concerns are not far off.

"A few Gamemakers and I decided to take a peek at the new tributes. It's going to be an entertaining Game this year; so many promising new faces. Your tribute, Myka, certainly caught our attention." Seneca smiles at the mentor sitting across from him.

"He's a good-looking kid. But something tells me that isn't all that caught your interest. What exactly is it that caught your attention?" Finnick tries to stay calm and collected, as if the conversation did not worry or upset him.

"Well, it looks like the male tribute from District 4 will not be included in the Career pack this year. That alone is something new and unexpected." There's more to this, but Finnick doesn't want to find out.

"Is that so? Well," Finnick runs his hand through his hair. "I guess we'll see how a change in game plans will play out. I'm sure he'll do well enough with the assistance from his sponsors."

"I don't doubt that. But there are certain changes that cannot and will not be accepted."

"Mr. Crane, let's cut the small talk and get to the chase. What exactly are you implying?" Finnick furrows his brows in curiosity.

"Myka Volkan made an excellent display with a trident. Threw it at another tribute and caught him to the wall." Seneca lets the information sink.

"Was… was he injured?" Finnick gasps.

"No. The forks trapped him on each side of the neck, but he is otherwise unharmed. Now, you understand we have very strict rules concerning our tributes attacking one another outside of the arena, don't you?" He asks. The mentor slowly nods, waiting for the rest of the news. "Then you must also understand that when those rules are ignored, consequences will be made. Now, Myka has quickly become a Capitol favorite. I can't physically punish him or the Capitol will be upset when they see the fresh scars on his body before the Games have even begun. But-" Two guards walk into the room.

"Y-yes?" Finnick stammers.

"But I can very well hurt him in… _other_ ways." He nods to the guards who quickly approach Finnick and grab him by arms. The usually charismatic and entrancing man is nervous and petrified. The guards haul him, his legs dragging against the carpet as he kicks and bucks beneath them.

"Wait. No. Wait! Stop!" He shouts.

* * *

Peeta waits patiently in the other room as Katniss is being interviewed. It felt strange; they always interviewed together. But this session consisted of having them separate, hoping to gain information on the wedding from one of them. He holds his hands together, lightly touches the tips of his index and middle fingers to his lips. He can hear laughter. Katniss must be doing better with these interviews now.

She didn't sleep very well last night. She tossed and turned, a cold sweat forming on her hairline and back. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell that the nightmares weren't allowing her to rest. He protectively placed his arm around her ribcage, careful to avoid touching her breasts. She stopped shaking. The only clue of her discomfort was the knot in her brows. He kisses her cheek and her features soften. She tightens her lower arm around the arm he has beneath her, balling her fist to her chest. Her free arm topples over the one she's resting on, thumb and index finger touching her lips. She's balled like a sleeping child against her protector. The nightmares stop.

Gale comes to mind. Would she have the nightmares if he and Gale had switched places? Would he be able to comfort her in her sleep? Peeta ponders the possibilities. Gale was too hardened. He would have definitely been able to protect Katniss in the arena, something Peeta couldn't do; but he'd never be able to comfort her.

Peeta realizes he is the best match for Katniss. He doesn't think this out of competition or rivalry, it was just fact. Although she couldn't see it right now, Peeta was beginning to. This marriage could help her. He genuinely felt bad for Gale, but Katniss is his prime concern. He wondered if Gale's death in the arena would hinder or help her in the end. If he died, she could decide she loved him all along and she'd never be able to look at Peeta without hurting, a constant reminder of the best friend she lost. But there was also the possibility of learning to let him go. And if he was out of the picture forever, she could move on and begin a new life with Peeta.

His head hurts. This was too much to think about. He decides the best way to handle everything is to let in unfold. He needed it to be out of his hands. A woman enters the room, interrupting his thoughts as she announces it's time for his part of the interview.


	15. Chapter 15

The tributes have finished their first day of training and begin to head back to the elevators. A guard steps out in front of Myka, blocking his path.

"Myka Volkan, you have been summoned to meet with Seneca Crane. Come with me." The guard lightly shoves the confused tribute in the opposite direction of the elevators. They walk through another long corridor until they reach a hall with numerous doors. The guard walks up to a square box on the right side of one of the doors and opens it. He presses his hand against the metal and a green light flashes with a _ding_. The door opens and Myka is escorted inside.

Seneca Crane is sitting on a large, plush chair in the corner of the room. He raises his left hand to the guard, signaling he may leave. Myka looks around the room, taking in his surroundings. It was warm with welcoming hues and flowers, but it felt cold and dubious.

"Take a seat, Myka." The man gestures to another swanky chair in front of him. Myka hesitates before settling into his seat. "There's no need to be afraid. We're just here to have a little conversation." Originally, Seneca planned on having an entirely different discussion with the adolescent before him. He changed his mind when he took a good look at the attractive teenager with striking eyes. He waits for him to say something, expects him to ask what he wanted to talk about. He doesn't. _'You really are a quiet one, aren't you?'_

"The other Gamemakers and I were watching you during training and saw the confrontation you had with the tribute from District 2. As you already know, fighting amongst tributes before the arena is not tolerated. I was ordered to punish you for it." He pauses, stands up, walks over to a switch in the wall. He flicks it and the wall opens, revealing a glass barrier with Finnick and three guards on the other side. He's hunched over on the ground choking for air, blood dripping from his lips. A guard had kicked him in the ribs and mouth. Myka leaps to the glass, banging on it profusely.

"It's a one-way mirror and completely sound-proof. He can't see or hear you." Seneca states. Myka looks at him, pain evident in his face and- _'blue and violet eyes? How did he do that?'_ Seneca watches those eyes as they swell with water. His chest fills with desire for his new discovery. A guard holds Finnick up by the arms and a second guard backhands the trapped man. Seneca presses a button on the wall and says, "That's enough for now. Wait for further direction."

"Please- don't." Myka cries. Seneca contemplates his options for a moment.

"I don't want to hurt your mentor and I don't want to hurt you. I'll let him go, and I'll even help you in the arena." He says. Myka looks at him, completely confused.

"Why?" He asks.

"Because there's something about you, Myka. Of course, I have two conditions. The first is that you never repeat what you saw or what was said in this room. Understand?"

"Yes…" Myka answers. "What, um- what's the second condition?"

"You owe me." Seneca smiles. Myka ponders this.

"I… don't know how I can repay you." Myka says, honestly. Seneca walks up to him, places his hand on his cheek, the other on his shoulder.

"There are ways you can do that. We'll get to it if and when the time comes."

* * *

Marigold races off to her room to take a nap; she's exhausted from training. Gale walks into the living space where Haymitch is enjoying a nutritious meal of whiskey and ale. He takes a seat across from Haymitch.

"So?" Haymitch asks when Gale says nothing.

"So, what?" Gale asks. Haymitch rolls his eyes as if talking to Gale was like talking to a mentally challenged child. He has no patience for it.

"So what happened in training, genius?" Gale shrugs his shoulders and picks up the whiskey Haymitch has placed on the table. He takes a sip when Haymitch asks, "Have you started to think about any possible allies or found the competition?" Gale thinks for a moment.

"The Careers have an alliance. The one from District 2, Cato, he's going to be the toughest opponent. He's good with all the weapons. Especially the sword."

"Big shock, Districts 1 through 4 are in an alliance. What's new?" Haymitch scoffs.

"Half," Gale starts, "half of district 4." At this, Haymitch raises an eyebrow.

"Why only half?" He asks.

"Don't know. The male tribute, Myka, I think, doesn't get along with Cato. Threw a trident at him; was a clean shot, too. Trapped him to the wall by the neck."

"That's who you want in your alliance then!" Haymitch proposes. Gale shakes his head.

"Whatever is going on between them, it's personal. He'll be the first one they go after." Gale points out.

"Hmmm. Well it's the first day. Maybe you'll find someone worth having an alliance with tomorrow."

"No. No alliances. I do better on my own anyway."

* * *

Katniss and Peeta are escorted to the recurring black car. This routine was getting old and redundant. It used to be a relief seeing the car that would drive them back to their building, but now the mere sight of it made them both tired. Peeta opens the door for Katniss, then lets himself inside. Katniss' face is worn and weary. She looks out the window and while the sights pass by, she doesn't take notice of them. She stares out, lost in her own mind. Peeta decides it's best to let her space out for a while. He didn't think she would appreciate him holding her hand at the moment.

They do not exchange a single word the whole ride back. When the car stops and the door is opened for them, they drag their feet to the building. They walk to the elevator, as they always do, and make their way back to the living space. Everyone must be asleep.

"I'll be in bed. Let me know if you need anything, Katniss." Peeta says with a soft voice. She nods at him and decides to go outside for a few minutes. She goes upstairs and notices the door to the roof is already ajar. She lets herself outside and sees Gale laying down on the edge of the building. _'Is he afraid of _anything_?'_

Gale turns to see who is invading his alone time when he catches sight of Katniss. He sits up and she smiles at him. He smiles back, happy to finally see her after so long.

"I used to hide up on the roof, too." Katniss says. It doesn't surprise Gale. Being on the roof was the closest thing to being outdoors or up in a tree, away from the noise. He nods and looks back down. When he doesn't say anything, Katniss starts to turn away, afraid he was still upset with her.

"I'm sorry for the other day, Katniss." He says. She turns back and looks at him. Their gray eyes gaze at one another. Gale pats the space next to him. She walks over and sits next to him. They look out into the city.

"I'm sorry, too, Gale." She finally says. Gale reaches over and offers her his hand. She takes it and they stare back into the cloudless sky, letting the cool air enfold them. The moon shines nearly full, high in the night. It casts a soft light on everything it touches, leaving the city to shine bright with all of its magnificent colors. Despite being in the capitol, it really was a beautiful sight. The two bodies feel calm and collected for once.

"Katniss, if I lose-" Gale starts. He's interrupted by Katniss.

"You won't."

"Katniss, please- let me say this. I may not get another chance. If I die in the arena, I want you to make sure my family is okay. I'm not asking you to take care of them. Just make sure my mother finds work and my brothers help out when they can. And- I want you to be happy. I don't know if Peeta can do that for you, but as much as I hate to say it, he's a good person. If I have to lose you to anyone, I'm glad it was to someone who really cares about you like I do." He looks back at Katniss. She feels the sadness begin to take over, but pushes through it.

"Okay, Gale. But you _are_ coming home. I'll do my best to make sure that happens."

"Well that's good. I'd hate to have a mentor that doesn't want to put in the effort to help keep me alive." They both laugh and embrace in a warming hug.


	16. Chapter 16

The second day of training isn't any better than the first. Cato has eyes set to kill on Myka. The Careers have already proven their strengths and abilities, and it's become obvious they are searching the rest of the tributes for the weakest links to kill right away. Not wanting to be on that list, everyone shows off a talent here and there. The male tribute from District 11 immediately stands from the crowd. With his tall, strong build with muscles like an ox, he proves himself to be the strongest tribute of the entire bunch. The male tribute from District 1 approaches him and invites him to be a part of their alliance. He turns them down.

The Careers have observed almost every tribute when Gale feels eyes on him. He looks over his shoulder to see they are watching him like dogs ready to take out a pile of meat. He ignores them and finds himself at the camouflage station. Marigold is painting mud on her arm, trying to blend with the bark in front of her. She notices the Careers staring at Gale.

"Gale!" She whispers. "Gale! I think they're going to try to kill you." She says.

Gale realizes this was the sort of confrontation he was trying to avoid. He refused to be in any alliance because he did not want to draw attention to himself. Now they were all watching him. He steps away from the station and walks over to the weapons. The Careers follow him, blatantly acknowledging they want to see what Gale can do. He knows better than to use his best skills, so he decides to pick up a bow and arrow. He thumbs the string, testing its strength. When he feels he has a basic understanding of it, he places the arrow on the bow and pulls the string back. He picks his target: a fake deer. He releases the arrow and it pierces through the deer's forehead. He leers confidently. Of course, the Careers would never know he had actually meant to hit its neck. The look of surprise on their faces gives Gale satisfaction as he lays the weapon down and starts to head back to the camouflage station. He sees Marigold talking to the District 4 male tribute.

"Thank you, Marigold." Myka smiles as he walks away. The bell rings, signaling lunch hour before Gale has the chance to approach Marigold and ask her why she was talking to the District 4 tribute. As far as Gale was concerned, she was asking for trouble and he had no business talking to her. But they're both already out the door when Gale walks down the corridor.

The Careers are sitting at their usual table, joking and laughing together. Myka is sitting alone, furthest from the other tributes again. Gale looks around when he notices Marigold walking towards the District 4 tribute. _'What the hell is she doing?'_ Gale starts to head in their direction.

"Myka, how do you make your eyes change colors?" She asks. Myka smiles at her as she takes a seat next to him. He's growing fonder and fonder of her. She's so innocent.

"They change according to my mood." He answers honestly.

"Oh." She responds sadly, obviously upset that she can't make her eyes do the same. Myka takes notice and decides to try and cheer her up.

"What's that pretty necklace?" He asks. She grins at this.

"It's my token! It was my mother's. She died when I was born." She explains, touching the necklace.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He says.

"Where's your token?" She asks curiously.

"I don't have one. I never knew my mother either." He sympathizes.

"What about your daddy?" She presses. Myka doesn't know how to answer. He looks for the words when Gale unexpectedly shows up at the table.

"Marigold, why don't you sit at the other table. I want to show you how to make another snare after I talk to… Myka, is it?" Myka nods his head and smiles at Marigold as she lifts herself from the table and sighs an "Okay."

"Bye, Myka." She waves. He waves back at her with a small smile.

"You're pretty sick, you know that?" Gale scowls. Myka looks at him in shock.

"What are you talking about?" he asks defensively.

"Don't play stupid with me. She's just a little girl. You're no better than those Careers, pretending to be friends until you get into the arena. She's not from your district. She means nothing to you. I know we've got to fight to the death and all, but starting with little children is a pretty pathetic way to do it." Gale growls. Myka's brows lift in amusement.

"You… are really far off. It's pretty sad that you would go there." Myka laughs.

"Oh, so you're just a pervert that likes to trick little girls into trusting you. Sick fuck." Gale spits. Myka's eyes begin to glow yellow.

"Is that why _you're_ teaching her how to make snares?" Myka bites back. Gale's fury lights like a wildfire and he throws a fist at Myka. But he dodges it and uses the force against him, throwing Gale's entire torso into the table. All of the tributes watch the scene. Myka gets really close to Gale's ear.

"If you ever call me a child molester or a pervert again, I will kill you… Gale." Myka whispers.

"How the _fuck_ do you know my name?" Gale demands.

"Why don't you ask the little girl I'm apparently trying to fuck. Asshole." Myka lets go of Gale's arm and walks away from the table, heading back towards the training center.

"Too bad you guys don't click. He would have been a good addition to our alliance." The male tribute of District 1 says to Cato.

* * *

When the second day of training is over, Gale stomps into the living space. Marigold is sitting down with Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, and Peeta.

"What the _fuck_ did you talk about with the District 4 tribute?" He yells. Everyone's mouth opens in shock. Marigold looks as if she is about to cry.

"He asked me what your name was-" she sobs.

"Yeah, I get that. Why did you even talk to him at all? Are you fucking stupid?" Gale shouts.

"Gale!" Peeta snaps. "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't talk to her like that!"

"You had better shut the fuck up, baker boy! I'm talking." Gale barks.

"I asked him why he wanted to know, and he said he wanted to know if you would teach him how to make snares or use a bow and arrows if he could teach you to throw weapons." She snuffles.

"Throwing a trident doesn't-" Gale is cut off.

"He can throw spears, knives, and anything else!"

"And how would you know that? You can't trust someone just because they say they can do something." Gale huffs.

"Because he showed me! He tried to teach me how to throw knives and I showed him how to mix stuff for camouflage!" She shrieks. She sprints away crying, running to her room.

Gale feels like the most stupid person in the world. Effie stands defiantly and sticks her nose in the air, shoving Gale aside as she exits the room. Katniss follows suit, giving Gale the most disappointed face he's ever seen from her. Peeta shakes his head and follows Katniss. Haymitch doesn't budge. He picks up his bottle of wine and takes a swig.

"Aren't you going to yell at me or something?" Gale rolls his eyes.

"Nope." Is his simple response.

"Why not?" Gale's brows wrinkle in confusion.

"First, because you already made a damn fool of yourself. Second, I don't blame you. Would have done the same thing." He explains.

"You would?" Gale asks in surprise.

"Yep. Have a drink. It'll make you feel better. Or nothing. Whatever." Haymitch lifts the bottle in the air. Gale accepts the drink and gulps down a quarter of it before sitting down.

"Haymitch, why the hell are you helping me out?" Gale suddenly questions. It's been bothering him for some time. Haymitch never helped out any of his tributes.

"Because kid, you remind me of someone I used to know."

* * *

Myka didn't get the chance to see or comfort Finnick last night. He was taken to Dr. Marvel for "repair." Myka's chest feels incredibly empty and heavy. He's unsure whether Finnick will be back tonight or tomorrow. He wishes he could see him right now. The guilt stomps on him hard. He decides to take a shower. Not paying attention to the dials, he sprays ice cold water. He doesn't feel it.

When he finishes his shower, he walks into Finnick's room. He goes through the dresser and pulls out a green tank top. He takes it with him to his own room and puts on black undergarments and black pants. His whole body feels heavy. He lays on the bed and stares at the ceiling for hours until he finally falls asleep.

* * *

Finnick is not himself at the moment. He's had too much time alone and the thoughts of Annie's death are tearing at his mind. The drugs aren't helping any either. He sits on the ground, leaning back against his bed with a bundle of rope in his hands. His fingers are beginning to feel raw from all the constant tying of knots. He doesn't notice. He sees Annie screaming for help, trapped in the building as it blazes with fire. He looks down at the rope. _'Rope. Knots. Lots of knots. Must tie the knots. Untie the knots.'_ The rough material burns his hands as he feverishly creates complex loops. He tugs and pulls the rope over and over again, trying to distract himself from Annie. _'Pull the rope tighter.'_ The rougher he was, the more pain he caused to his hands. When his hands were in pain, Annie was gone from his mind. He's tugging the knots between his fingers when he feels soft hands delicately cup his own. He looks up and sees Annie's worried green eyes boring into his. Not Annie. _'But it is.'_ He drops the rope and kisses the parted, pouty lips in front of him. His hand grazes the soft cheek, descending to the moist mouth, under the lips, down the smooth chin.

The violet and green eyes are no longer Annie's.

"Finnick?" Myka coos softly. The man shakes his head, snapping out of his trance. Myka. Finnick observes the creature before him. It's not Annie, but the softness is. They're both pure; both fragile. And this is his. Myka belongs to him and no one else. His possession to do what he wants with. _'This is mine. This belongs to me.'_ Finnick pulls Myka to him, kissing and biting his neck.

"Ow!" Myka yelps. _'Fragile. Like Annie. But not so fragile. This is mine.'_ He grabs Myka by the hair and coerces a forceful kiss. Myka is bewildered. He has no idea what to do. This doesn't feel right. Finnick grabs his arm with so much force, it begins to bruise. He shoves him onto the bed and straddles his waist, pinning him beneath him. He kisses him again, hands snaking to his wrists. He lifts them up and pins them above his head in one hand. He kisses Myka again, using his other hand to rub his abdomen underneath Finnick's green tank top. He pulls away.

"Finnick?" Myka asks again. But the man doesn't answer him. He lifts the tank top off Myka and tugs his pants down. Myka stops him with his hands.

"Finnick, no." He whines. Finnick is frustrated. _'This is mine.'_ He slaps Myka's hands away and tugs on the pants again. Myka pushes Finnick away from him.

"I said stop it!" Myka shrieks. That's when the unexpected happens. Finnick backhands him and pulls his hair back. Myka whimpers.

"This is mine." He says. "You're mine. You belong to me." He tugs the pants down and off of him. Myka is hyperventilating as Finnick pulls his undergarments down to his knees. He caresses and strokes the delicate member as it starts to grow painfully hard. Myka cries in embarrassment when he realizes his body is reacting to the touches he doesn't want. Finnick takes his own shirt off, tossing it to the ground. He pulls Myka's hair, forcing him to turn his head to the left, and places eager kisses on his cheek and neck. He takes off his own pants and thrusts his erection against Myka's thigh. He forces his head to turn straight, kissing his mouth. Myka doesn't know how to react, but he's scared. So he kisses back.

They kiss for several minutes when Finnick grabs Myka's arm and turns his body around.

"No!" Myka cries. "Please, Finnick. Please don't." He tries to free himself, but Finnick is too strong and heavy on top of him.

"Shhh!" Finnick whispers in his ear. "It's okay, baby. You're mine now. You're mine, you're mine, you're mine." He purrs over and over again when Myka feels pressure against his tight muscles. Finnick pushes and pushes, but his member won't pass the ring of muscles. Realizing the problem, he turns Myka around. He strokes Myka's face, rubbing the tears away. He kisses Myka again, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Myka doesn't want to be backhanded again, so he obediently kisses back. Finnick tangles his fingers into Myka's hair and forces him lower. Myka kisses his neck, and then Finnick forces him even lower. He kisses his chest. Lower. His stomach. Lower. Belly button. Lower. Myka pulls back, a little confused. His head is brought back down and Finnick bucks his hips, letting his tip hit Myka's mouth. He takes the hint and takes him into his mouth. Finnick gasps in delight. He forces Myka's head to bob up and down as he thrusts in and out until he chokes.

After a couple of minutes, he pulls Myka away from him. Myka is relieved until Finnick turns him around again. He scampers, trying to get out of the bed when Finnick lays his body on him again. He kisses his neck and holds tight to his hips. He lifts Myka's hips up until he is fully exposed. Myka begins to crawl forward when Finnick grabs his hair again, forcing his head and upper body down.

"You don't have to do this." Myka weeps. Finnick can't hear him.

"I would have given it to you." He whispers. Then he cries out in the worst pain he's ever felt when Finnick forces himself into him.


	17. Chapter 17

Finnick leans over the side of his bed with a sudden jolt. The nausea takes over and he spews his stomach out. He's having a bad reaction to the drugs from last night. That Dr. Marvel was really full of himself. He claims to be the magician doctor, but this is the worst he's felt in a long time. And for the record, it was nothing like having the flu. He rubs his throbbing temples and looks down the bed. The blue bedspread is stained a dark color. Confused, Finnick lifts the blankets to see it's covered in blood. _'What happened?'_ He looks down at his lap. _'Oh God, was I raped last night? Could the drugs keep me from feeling it?'_ But, no, it didn't make sense. His backside would have been bleeding, not his lap. He examines his body for any cuts or bruising, but doesn't find anything.

The sickness stirs again. He decides to take a shower, hoping the water will sooth his headache. He takes a quick, cold one and it does help with the pain. When the dried blood is cleansed from his body, he steps back into his bedroom and rummages through his dresser, looking for something to wear. He thinks of Myka and puts on a gray tank and green pants. Myka. He should really see him. The poor thing was probably exhausted from training yesterday and didn't get to see him before going to bed. He decides to sneak into Myka's room, hoping he'd be excited to see him. Myka was the only one that gave him any sort of comfort these days.

He lets himself into the room and notices his bed is made. Strange. He thought Myka would still be sleeping. He hears the sink run and quietly tip-toes to the door. He jumps into the room and kisses Myka on the cheek. Myka freezes at the touch. Perplexed, Finnick steps back and observes the younger being in front of him staring into the sink, refusing to look at him. He decides to investigate with a quick observation of Myka's discomfort. His arms are heavily bruised and he has a dark mark on his cheek. He's shaking slightly, clenching the edge of the sink.

"Myka, what happened to you?" Finnick asks with concern. The looks he gets is one of anguish, grief, and disbelief. Unsure what to say or how to react, Myka just looks away, his baby-and-midnight blue eyes swelling with water. He didn't understand what was going on. Was this normal? Was it okay what happened last night? He doesn't know how to interact with anyone. He never did. After all, the closest thing he's ever had to a companion was his father- and he beat Myka almost every single day.

Finnick caresses his cheek gently, not wanting to make it sting.

"Myka, who did this to you?" He asks. He suspects it might be Cato. Or Seneca. When he gets his hands on them…

"You- you don't remember?" Myka falters. Was this some sort of joke? Finnick blinks.

"Myka, all I remember is going to a hospital and waking up sick to my stomach this morning. What's going on?" Myka hesitates for a moment.

"Nothing. No one. It was an accident." He answers. He walks out of the bathroom, limping on his way to his dresser.

"I don't believe it. Myka, you know you can tell me anything. What happened?" He presses. "Please tell me who did this to you." He looks as if he's about to cry. Myka doesn't know how to react. He hesitates. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"It's okay. Tell me." Finnick pushes again. The concern in his voice drives Myka mad. Finnick sits on the bed and tenderly grasps Myka's wrist. He tries to make him sit next to him, but he yelps in pain. Finnick frantically brushes Myka's face and hair with his hand. He looks for the cause of his pain when he notices the dark stain on his rear. It's all starting to fit together.

"Finnick," Myka cries, "it was you."

* * *

_'I don't know what any of this means anymore. There's always been something between Gale and I, but I've never been able to see it until now. Does this mean I love him? How do I know what I feel, or if what I feel is real? Sometimes it doesn't feel real at all. Sometimes I think this is all one, long, crazy nightmare. Maybe I fell into a coma and have been taking a long nap. But I've also heard that when you dream, time is different. Maybe this was all a dream and I'll wake up to find my father cleaning his boots and my mother cooking soup in the kitchen._

_ 'I know I'll never see him again. I know this is all wishful thinking. I often times wonder what things would have been like if Prim's name was never called last year. Gale and I would still be hunting in the woods. My family wouldn't be so worried about me. And Peeta-_

_ 'I never would have really known him. And that doesn't seem right to me. I know this isn't how I envisioned my life or expected how things would turn out the way they did. But what was my alternative anyway? I think Gale never would have told me he loved me. I would have been okay with that. I'd never have to get married or have children. I could never have children. And now, being a victor, I know their odds of being Reaped are promising._

_ 'Will I have to have children with Peeta? Will they grow up and be Reaped like we were? What are the chances they'll survive? Would I want them to? I've learned that Peeta and I were lucky. I don't feel lucky, but I know our lives are better than some of the other victors. I finally understand why Haymitch drinks so much. Why some victors develop addictions to Morphling. I recently learned that some victors were used as Capitol sex slaves. That could have been my life if I had won the Games alone._

_ 'I don't know what my best route is. I don't know if this is all one lousy destiny I was always meant to be a part of. I don't wish it on anybody else. And now that Gale will be competing… I don't know what to do with myself. The Games change you. If Gale wins, I don't know what it will turn him into. But I'm going to do my best to keep him alive._

_ 'I just wish I didn't think he'd be better off dead.'_

* * *

It's the third and final day of group training. Gale is never one to apologize, but Marigold deserves to be the exception. She's at the weapon station, practicing the throws Myka had shown her the day before with knives. She hits half the targets. Before the lessons, she didn't catch one. Gale jogs over to her.

"Marigold, can we talk?" He asks. She looks up at him.

"Okay." She says. She sets the knives down and gives Gale all of her attention.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." He cuts to the chase. She grins at him.

"It's okay, Gale." She accepts his apology simply. It was too easy. It only made Gale feel worse.

"I feel really bad." He says. She cocks her head.

"Sometimes I say stuff I don't mean when I'm mad. It's okay. Thank you for saying sorry." Marigold understands.

"Yeah, uh- I'm not the best with apologies." Gale admits, scratching the back of his head.

"But you just did. Are you going to say sorry to Myka?" She asks curiously. _'Oh. Right. The one I called a pervert… and a child molester.'_

"You know," Gale starts, "I really only planned on apologizing to you, little Marigold." He responds honestly. She frowns at this.

"I think he will say sorry to you if you say sorry to him first. Effie was mad, too. And Katniss. And Peeta." She adds to the list. Alright, that was too many expectations. Gale wasn't interested in making peace with anyone involved in business they had no part of. Well, the tribute from District 4 had, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen anyway. Not that it would have mattered.

"Okay. I will. I'll tell them I'm sorry." He lies. Marigold beams at him.

"Hey, Gale? Can you show me how to make a snare again? I forgot how to."

* * *

Myka has been released from having to go to the training center. He couldn't walk, much less fight. He'd been issued an emergency medical absence for the day. They needed him fixed up before the skill demonstration for the Gamemakers. He's unconscious in the medical bed. They had to knock him out to perform the procedure; His tissue had torn so severely they had to be stitched and receive laser treatment immediately to stop the bleeding. Finnick has not let go of his hand since this morning.


	18. Chapter 18

After several hours of being unconscious, Myka finally begins to stir in the bed. The warm figure laying next to him fills him with ease. His green eyes flutter open and examines the room. He's not in the hospital anymore. The surroundings are familiar, but the white sheets and blue-green blankets are not. It takes him a moment to realize he's in Finnick's room. Finnick is sleeping next to him, holding him protectively in his arms. Myka gradually realizes that his mentor is still holding his hand. He can smell Finnick; it reminds him of the ocean at home. Myka is buried in the crook of Finnick's neck. He's wearing a black tank top and undergarment. Finnick is still dressed in the same clothes he put on this morning.

Myka turns his body around. The movement wakes Finnick from his dreamless sleep. His eyes are red and puffy, evidence of his weeping. Myka can't help but feel sorry for the depression he was feeling. His eyes fade to light blue and violet, staring back at the older, sad man. Finnick's guilt amplifies. Never in a million years would he ever believe he could do something like that to another being; especially not to the body before him.

"Myka, I'm so sorry." Finnick whispers. "I know it's probably the last thing you want to hear. I would never intentionally do anything like that to you. Ever. I don't know how or why it happened. I fe-"

"I love you."

* * *

The tributes are in a state of panic. Today was the day they'd have to put their best foot forward and impress the Gamemakers. They wait for their names to be called, one-by-one, as they sit in the hall. The female tribute from District 1 goes first. Moments later, the male tribute. Then the female tribute from District 2, and so on.

"Myka Volkan, District 4." A guard calls. Myka walks into the smaller training room and takes notice of the Gamemakers on a balcony, watching below. There must be a dozen of them. He cautiously walks over to the weapons and observes his options. He notices traps on every single of them. He grabs a net, rope, hooks, a knife, spear, and trident and successfully avoids the traps. The Gamemakers carefully observe him while he cuts the rope into small fragments. He ties numerous hooks into the net with the pieces of rope, careful to make the perfect knot every time. He sets the net on the ground and carries natural plants, bark, and other items to his work area. His careful hands create a realistic groundcover that hides the net. He places a human dummy nearby the net and continues to tie more complex knots into the tree. They look like vines and tree branches.

When he's done with the knots, he grabs two more dummies and strategically places them as if they were a group of allies. He smears berry juice on each of them, writing the words "Career 1," "Career 2," and "Career 3" on their fronts and backs. This has caught their immediate attention. He grabs his weapons and stands far back, pretending to be behind a tree. He throws the knife and it stabs the "Career 1" dummy in the dead center of its forehead. He throws the spear and it pierces through "Career 3" dummy's heart. He saves the best for last and throws the trident into the "Career 2" dummy's throat. It falls back and a loud _crack_ makes the Gamemakers jump back as the net swallows the body whole, hooks tearing it to shreds.

"Thank you. You may leave." Seneca Crane smirks. _'Doesn't look like you'll be needing a whole lot of my help.'_ It was perfect.

* * *

The other tributes are called until District 12 is left.

"Marigold, what are you going to do?" Gale asks. She shrugs her shoulders.

"I was going to camouflage myself and make something." She answers.

"Good. Don't go near the weapons."

"Oh. Okay. Why-" but before she can finish asking, the guard calls her next. Gale waits patiently. He's the very last one in line. It only take a few minutes before his name is called.

"Gale Hawthorne, District 12."

Gale enters the training room. The Gamemakers look bored, something he suspected would happen. After all, when you're watching 24 different tributes, one-right-after-another, it starts to get old unless you can really catch their attention. He walks around the whole room, quickly glancing at all of the weapons and surrounding areas. His behavior alone was suspicious. A couple of the Gamemakers watch intently as Gale takes a final look around the room. After a moment, he walks to a corner and towards the large tree. He thumbs through the vines until he finds what he's looking for. He stands tall and defiantly.

"You may want to cover your ears for this." He announces. All of the Gamemakers look his way, curious. He pulls the vine, hard, and a chain reaction of _bangs_ and _snaps_ occur.

All of the snares and traps in the room go off. The loud snaps sound like miniature fireworks, echoes bouncing off the walls. The Gamemakers jump back in surprise. Fake dummies are stabbed or blown up. Weapons fly off their stands. When the last trap has set, Gale looks up at the balcony and smirks.

"You're the one that booby trapped all of the weapons and set the traps?" Seneca asks. Gale takes a bow. The Gamemakers are all silent.

"T-thank you. You may leave."

* * *

The tributes are back in their living quarters with their mentors and stylists. Their scores are about to be announced soon. Everyone eagerly awaits by the television, anticipating their scores.

"What did you two choose as your talent?" Mattie asks. She and Porpoise decided to stick with the sex appeal.

"I took a knife from a strap wrapped around my thigh and threw it at a dummy." Porpoise smirks. She faces Finnick. "It was, ah- kind of a great show." She lifts an eyebrow in flirtation.

"Absolutely perfect." Vernalli beams. The group gives comments like, "Great work," and "Beautiful and dangerous." When her ego has finished being spoon fed, they look at Myka.

"What did you choose as your talent, Myka?" Mattie asks.

"Let me guess… another trident?" Porpoise giggles. Myka looks straight at her with a serious face.

"Actually, I killed the Careers." The room goes quiet and Porpoise's smile staggers into a stunned expression. Finnick tries to suppress a laugh.

* * *

"So how'd you do?" Haymitch asks.

"I disguised myself as part of the tree!" Marigold beams. "And I made poison out of the plants." That was unexpected. Peeta gives her a high five.

"Great job, Marigold. What about you, Gale?" Cinna asks. Gale looks up at all the eyes staring at him.

"I rigged the training room." He says. There's a look of shock on everyone's faces.

"Gale!" Katniss shrieks, "You can't do things like that! They'll kill you if you try to change their Games."

"Nobody got hurt." Gale scoffs. "I think…"

The anthem sounds and everyone stares at the screen. An announcement is made that the tributes have completed their training and have shown the Gamemakers their skills. They remind everyone that the scores can be anything between a 1 and 12, and that the higher the score is, the better. The face of the female tribute from District 1 shows on the screen. Her name is above her photo and the number "9" appears under it. District 1 male tribute receives a "9" as well. District 2 female; "10." District 2 male, Cato; "11." District 3 female; "8." District 3 male; "10." District 4 female, Porpoise; "8." District 4 male; "11." The other tributes earn numbers between a "5" and "7," with the exception of the male tribute from District 11; "10." District 12 finally shows. Marigold; "6." And Gale is the very last to show. "11." Never before in history has there ever been 3 tributes with a score of "11."

This was going to be the most exciting year in the Games history.


	19. Chapter 19

Caesar Flickerman is a capitol sensation! He looks flashy in his midnight blue suit adorned with tiny yellow light bulbs. He wears this signature every year, but changes his hair, lips, and eyelids. This year, he sports a marvelous powder blue. He's worked up the audience and has them on the edge of their seats; eager to see the tributes. The female tribute of District 1 is first to go on stage. She's dressed in an incredibly risqué red dress and portrays a very sexy persona. Caesar works with her character, baiting the crowd. He's notorious for this. It doesn't matter who the tribute is or from what District, he always turns the conversation to a positive direction.

The male tribute is next. Then the female tribute from District 2. When her interview is complete, Cato is next in the interviews. He's strong, willful, and dangerous. He carries a tough front that interests the crowd. He is definitely a good candidate for the win. His responses are confident and assertive.

"So Cato, it looks like you're more than capable of winning this year. Any competition?" Caesar entices the audience. Cato's smug smirk sells him to be convinced there was no one that could even compare with him.

"Well, Caesar, I'll start by telling you that I really don't see the competition yet." Cato sneers.

"What about the tributes from Districts 4 and 12? You all tied for the highest scores." Caesar reminds him. At this, Cato's smirk falters and he becomes serious.

"Like I said, I don't see the competition yet. But I'm sure everyone will be made clear of that in the arena. After all, 4 and I have a score to settle." Caesar laughs with a "Whoa!" and everyone in the crowd is excited. The cameras flash to the side of the stage where Myka and Gale are standing next to each other, watching the interview.

* * *

_In District 12, Hazelle Hawthorne brings a tray of food for her children in the living space where she glances up at the screen. She drops the tray and gasps in shock, trying to hold back her tears. Her son! He will be interviewed soon, reminding her that they will be fighting to the death in the arena. She tries to keep herself together when her son, Rory, rushes to her aid._

_ "Why my baby?" She cries in a whisper._

* * *

The interviews continue when it's Myka's turn. The moment he walks on stage, girls shriek with delight. Caesar stands to shake his hand then gestures to the red seat next to him. They both sit down and smile until the crowd is settled down.

"Well you sure are popular with the Capitol. How are you enjoying it here?" Caesar begins. Myka looks at the audience, the anxiety in his throat bubbling over. There were so many people.

"I… um, it's nice." He answers while rubbing his messy dark hair. Finnick is in the audience, watching him. _'Shit. He's going to lose sponsors.'_ He looks up and notices Seneca watching Myka with hungry eyes. _'Why is he staring at him like that?'_ It finally dawns on him that Seneca wants Myka to himself. He stands up and disappears from the crowd.

"Nice?" Caesar laughs. "It's hard to explain something when there are so few words to describe it, I understand. Are you enjoying it here?" Myka bites his bottom lip, unsure how to answer.

"Yeah. It's nice." _'Shit, damn, fuck, shit! Say something else, you idiot! Finnick is watching. He's-wait. Where is Finnick?'_ Myka looks out into the crowd, searching for his mentor. He could really use a familiar face right now.

"Great! We're glad you're enjoying your stay. Now, I've been told by _hundreds_ of people that they were actually in love with you. Tell me, Myka, is there a special girl at home anyone needs to worry about?"

Myka pauses for a moment, a stern look on his face. "No." He answers honestly.

"No? I don't believe that for a second! I'm sure some lucky thing has caught your eye." He persists. Myka's eyes change from the vivid green with yellow and orange specks he'd been seen with a lot lately to a light gray. The crowd awes in amazement.

"Yeah." Myka pauses. "Yes. There is someone…"

"I knew it! I just knew it! Can you tell us a little something about the special lady? Who is she, Myka?" Just then, Finnick Odair walks onto the stage. The audience is in utter disbelief. They scream with excitement and anticipation. He strides to Myka, whose back is facing him; he's completely unaware of what is happening behind him. Finnick grabs his arm, pulls him from his seat, turning his body around, and instantly kisses the young man. The crowd screams in hysterics. Everyone is going wild. Even Caesar is caught off guard with a look of shock on his face. Myka wraps his arms around Finnick's neck, zealously returning his kisses. Finnick's arms travel down Myka's back and grip onto his hips. When they finally break away, Myka slowly opens his eyes, revealing the light violet only Finnick can bring. The audience is crying with thrill.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Myka Volkan and Finnick Odair!" The screams grow thunderously. Finnick looks back up at Seneca, who raises an eyebrow at him. He kisses Myka again, letting the man watching know _'He is __**mine**__.'_

* * *

No one is able to top the show Myka and Finnick had displayed for the world. The male tribute from District 11 responds to all the questions with short one-word answers. The other interviews are very much forgettable. It's little Marigold's turn. She walks on stage wearing very little makeup and a sweet yellow and gold dress, magnifying her innocence. She's also wearing a black necklace with a large ruby. The stone sparks.

"Well hello miss Marigold Nealson. You look absolutely adorable today!" Caesar beams.

"Thank you! I like your suit." She grins.

"You are too sweet. Thank you." He loves her kind nature. "Marigold, you're how old again? 12?"

Marigold swings her feet in her seat. "Yes, I'm 12."

"You are so young. How are feeling about the competition?"

She thinks for a moment. "I think everyone worries because I'm young and small, but that makes it easier for me! I'm fast, and I can hide really well. And I know a couple things. I hope no one is counting me out before the Games have even started. I'm really good!" She explains.

"Count _you_ out? I wouldn't dare! I agree you have an advantage and you'll do just fine. Maybe even better! And I _know_ the crowd agrees with me." He turns to the crowd as he says this and smiles wide. The audience shouts in support. It's a wonderful interview for Marigold. The very last interview is about to start.

Gale Hawthorne walks onto the stage. Girls cry in enchantment as they stare at his physique. Cinna decided to go in a completely different route with Gale's attire; he's wearing a simple v-cut white tank top that shows his gorgeous collarbones, and brown cargo pants that compliment his hair and brings out his gray eyes. He looks like a rebel that plays by his own rules, and the crowd is loving it.

"Gale Hawthorne! Welcome! It's good to have you here." Caesar begins. They shake hands and take a seat. Gale's posture is extremely laid back as he flops his legs open and leans back.

"Good to be here, C." He replies.

"Excellent! Now, Gale, you strike me as a confident man. I imagine there would be a lot of pressure on you since your district has won last year's Games." Caesar motions his hand to Gale. "But here you are!"

"Here I am." Gale repeats, opening his arms.

"I have no doubt you will do very well. Especially with a score of 11!" He opens his mouth in shock to the audience. "And three tributes with that score! I might be wetting my pants in your shoes. And in his suit, the fireworks would be a terrible sight. No one wants to see someone catch fire by accident." He looks to the crowd and makes an exaggerated shocked expression, mouth gaped wide open. "Well now! Don't everybody come to my aid at once!" The audience is in hysterics.

"Yeah. It'll be a great one this year." Gale agrees. "I'm sure it'll be interesting to see what happens with the tributes. Not just the three of us."

"You're absolutely right. And speaking of which, you'll have to forgive me, but I have to say- there is such a resemblance between you and Myka Volkan." Caesar cocks his eyebrow. "Is it strange being compared to the sex symbol of District 4?"

"Not at all. But there is a huge difference between him and I." Gale says.

Caesar leans in, as if he's about to share a huge secret. "And what's that?"

Gale smirks. "I'm still on the market." Suddenly, the whole crowd is screaming in desire.


	20. Chapter 20

Seneca Crane is in a fury. He's yelling at a man dressed in a white coat excitedly. He paces back and forth in the small conference room.

"Why didn't it work, Marvel?" Seneca yells.

Dr. Marvel cocks his eyebrow at him. "Oh, it worked. There's no way it couldn't have."

"Yeah? Then explain to me why Finnick Odair has Myka melting for him! You told me those drugs could turn a saint to a sinner!" He pounds his fist into the table. Dr. Marvel rolls his eyes.

"I gave him a highly concentrated dose. His testosterone level and libido should have been increased by more than twelve-hundred percent. And when he left, he looked like he'd just made a pact with Misery herself! Looks like your boy is just one forgiving saint, or Finnick took it out on some other broad."

Seneca clenches his teeth. "Myka is not a broad. And nobody else could have been there, I made sure of that."

"Then it looks like the first option." Dr. Marvel sighs. "Guess you'll have to use Plan B."

"I was hoping to save Plan B for something else entirely." Seneca says. "I'd better get back to the drawing board."

* * *

They're holding hands as if the moment they'd even consider letting go, they'd be torn away from one another forever. Porpoise is staring daggers at Myka. As far as she was concerned, he threatened her and took the prize she planned on having for herself. The stylists are toasting to the expectancy of a good Games this year. Everyone feasts until their bellies are round. When the celebration is over, the stylists wish their tributes good luck and go to bed. Porpoise eventually excuses herself to get some sleep as well. Mattie, Finnick, and Myka are the only ones left in the living quarters.

"Myka, honey, would you mind if Finnick and I talked for a bit?" Mattie asks gently.

Myka lifts his head from his mentor's- scratch that, his lover's shoulder. He begins to stand, delicately detangling himself from Finnick's grasp, but they're both having a difficult time letting each other's hands go. "Okay." He says. Finnick pulls him back down for a kiss before Myka heads to his bedroom.

"What's up, Mattie?" Finnick asks with a small sigh. He wants Myka back in his embrace.

"Finnick, have you even thought this through?" She suddenly demands.

"What do you mean, Mats?" He questions.

Mattie lets out an audible sigh. "What will you do if he loses? You've grown too attached. You know that's dangerous. I don't want to see you lose it if he doesn't come back home to you. Or worse; what if he wins? He's another sex symbol. You know Snow will want him. How are you going to manage that? And you've just announced a monogamous relationship with him for everyone to see! You _know_ Snow isn't going to be happy about that. He could kill you or your family, Finnick!"

It's true. Finnick hadn't thought much about it. "He's not going to lose! And who are you to tell me what I can or cannot do? I will never allow Snow's people to touch him. I made sure of that by what I did! And Snow would never touch my family now. He's cruel, but he's not stupid. If anyone I love dies, people will catch on quickly." He pauses as it sinks in. "They took Annie away from me. I can't let them take Myka too."

"Fin, let me ask you something. Have you let yourself really think about everything that's been happening? Annie just died and you're already glued to somebody else. Not only is it an insult to Annie, but you're being cruel to Myka. You're letting him believe you could love him."

"I do love him." Finnick states flatly.

"Maybe you believe that now, but what will happen if he won and you went home together? Annie will constantly distract you. You'll leave him feeling lonely and betrayed all over again. And I don't think he could recover from it. You're setting each other up for heartbreak. After everything that boy has been through- after everything _you've_ been through- you should know better."

"Do _not_ tell me what you _think_ I will do!" Finnick has raised from his seat and is yelling at her. "This is none of your business! And I will never hurt Myka! Don't you get it? I'm happy. I'm happy with Myka and despite what you may believe, I'm not letting him go. Ever!" He storms out of the room.

Mattie shakes her head and whispers to no one, "Oh, Finnick. What a mess you've made." She's convinced the best thing that can happen for everyone is if Myka dies in the arena tomorrow.

* * *

He never cries for anyone and he'll never let another soul make a fool of him, but Gale has let the tears run down his face. It's the only thing that gives him away; the rest of his body is calm and collected. He's staring out into the city again. This is the last night he'll have to himself before the Games. He may not come back to enjoy the beauty of another quiet night or a warm sunrise. Katniss joins him on the rooftop. She knew he'd be here. She knows he's not alright.

She sits next to him on the ledge of the building and touches his hand. He looks up at her, the streaks of water fresh, eyes cold and distant. _He's_ _hurting._ Before she knows what she's doing, she leans in and touches her lips against his.

"I knew you'd kiss me." He says.

"How?" She asks, puzzled.

"Because I'm in pain. That's the only way I get your attention." He looks back out into the city. "Don't worry, Katniss. It will pass."

_'Have I really been that cold?'_ Gale has never needed comfort. He's never needed a shoulder to cry on, or someone to wipe away his tears. He's always been self-sufficient, independent, and strong. He takes care of himself. He fends for his family. He even takes care of Katniss' family. He is his own back-bone and has never needed anyone to help him.

Or maybe he just never had someone that could.

* * *

Peeta waits in the room he shares with Katniss. He kicks his legs over the bed, sitting on his hands. Usually, he's the one that comforts Katniss in her troubles. But tonight- tonight he needed her. He felt selfish. Tonight was the last night before the Games. And even though he and Katniss would not be entering the arena, it still felt like they were waiting to be put back in it.

He grabs a notebook and pen from one of the dressers. He needed something to keep his mind occupied until she got back. He understood her best friend was about to be taken to a place he may never come back from, and so he was patient. He'd be here when she was done talking to Gale. He'd be here to comfort her. And whether or not she realized it, she'd comfort him. Just having her in the room with him was enough.

He opens the notebook to a blank page and flicks the pen against the white sheets. All his focus is devoted to the single page as he feverishly sketches until his wrist becomes sore. He ignores the pain. He continues to sketch the vision in his mind until it's complete. When he's done, he takes a good look at it. He decides he will eventually paint it.

The door opens and Katniss lets herself inside. She looks depressed, but offers the smallest smile when she sees Peeta waiting for her on the bed.

"I ordered some hot chocolate for you." He says. He knows how much she loves it. And right now, any fragment of comfort gives them relief.

She manages a "Thank you" and takes a seat next to him. Peeta puts his pen down and is about to close the notebook when she puts her hand on the page to prevent him from doing so. She observes it. Peeta's worried the sketch has bothered her in some way, so he takes the notebook and gently places it on the nightstand. Katniss stares at him. A moment has passed, and then she kisses him.

It was in that moment that she realized how much he cared about her. Her portrait was strong and beautiful.

* * *

The feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he knew something was wrong. He didn't really want to know what Mattie and Finnick were talking about. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was somehow involved and that it wasn't a pleasant conversation. He's afraid Finnick will think differently of him; That he'll change his mind or decide he doesn't care anymore. He can't let that happen. He can't let anyone convince Finnick that he's nothing to him. _'That's what they're talking about, isn't it? Finnick doesn't want me.'_

Myka can hear the footsteps coming to his room. He jolts from the bed and waits behind the door. The door handle shakes and Finnick tiptoes in. "Myka?" He coos.

Myka leaps from behind the door and kisses Finnick with so much passion it's as if the world were about to end. This hungry, assertive person that's filled with desire is completely new to Finnick. It excites him. He leans down to grab Myka's thighs and lifts them around his waist as they continue to kiss. He grasps onto Myka's bottom and carries him over to the bed. They fall on the bed, wrestling their eager bodies together. Their lips only break contact long enough to pull each other's shirts above their heads, discarding them to the ground. Myka starts to unbuckle Finnick's pants when he stops him.

"Myka, wait." Finnick whispers. "I don't want to do this."

His chest becomes heavy. The water threatens to drip down his quickly changing eyes; violet fading to blue. He knew it. He knew Finnick didn't want him.

"Why are you crying, lovely?" Finnick wipes away the streak down Myka's cheek.

"You don't want me." He sobs.

Finnick is shocked. "What are you talking about? Of course I want you. Myka, I love you." He looks back up at Finnick, confused. "It's just, with what happened the other night, I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't hurt me." Myka pleads. His eyes are like an explosion. Finnick can't tell if they're blue with violet specks, or violet with blue specks. Unsure, Myka plants a small kiss on Finnick's lips. And again. By the third peck, Finnick kisses back. Myka takes it as in invitation and goes back to unbuckling Finnick's pants. They drop to the floor and Finnick gets to work on Myka's clothes. He yanks them off along with his undergarments and kisses him again. Myka lightly tugs on Finnick's undergarment, letting them slide down his body. He leans back on the bed and parts his legs, waiting for Finnick to make the next move. He doesn't.

"Myka, I'm so sorry. I can't do this right now. All I can think about is hurting and tearing you again." Finnick frowns. Myka looks embarrassed suddenly. His cheeks redden and the violet eyes fade to blue and yellow. Those eyes were beautiful, but they gave him away in an instant. He looks away when he feels Finnick climb over him. He plans on avoiding him for the rest of the night. But his eyes snap back at him and he gasps when he feels a hot and wet enclosure around his erection. He stares at Finnick as his messy auburn hair bobs up and down.

This is not nearly his first time performing, but it feels amazing giving Myka his first blowjob. The lover beneath him bucks his hips in excitement, moans in appreciation, and whines like a little kitten. It's the sexiest thing Finnick has ever seen. He loves making Myka squirm beneath him. And the sounds he made- _yes!_ And to think, this was just the beginning of it all. He sucks harder, swallows him deeper. It doesn't take long for Myka to peak. His inexperience is so very sweet. It brings Finnick closer. He massages Myka with his hands, sucking even harder, faster. Then Myka releases with a whimper. Finnick takes everything he has to offer. When Myka's orgasm has reached an end, Finnick lifts himself off with a _pop._

He watches the boy underneath him until their eyes catch. He lowers his head back down and holds Myka's member close to his face. He sticks his tongue out, confusing Myka until he squeezes the excess out of him and onto his tongue. He swallows, then purrs "I love the way you taste."

Myka is panting heavily. He looks down to see Finnick is still very stiff. He kisses him, then flips their positions and gets to work immediately. He doesn't have much experience; His work is messy and all over the place. Despite this, it makes Finnick even more hot and excited. _'This is how it's going to be. This is what it's going to feel like when he comes home with me for the rest of our lives. He truly is mine.'_


	21. Chapter 21

It's bright and early when Haymitch comes knocking on Gale's door. Naturally, he didn't get any sleep last night. There were too many things on his mind.

"Wake up, princess. Time to go." Haymitch slurs. It's way too early to be sporting a hangover. Gale lifts himself from the bed, doesn't bother changing out of his white tank and gray sweat pants. He drags his feet to the living quarters where Marigold, Effie, and Haymitch are waiting for him.

"Where's Katniss and Peeta?" He asks suddenly. Effie pouts, knowing her answer will upset him.

"They left this morning. They were escorted out about an hour ago or so. Come, come now. It's going to be a big day!" Even Effie doesn't sound as cheerful as she normally does. They all expect Gale to throw another temper tantrum, but instead he's slightly relieved. Saying goodbye would be like he was never coming back.

There's a knock at the door. The guards let themselves in and announce it's time to go. They escort the group to a hovercraft on the roof. Effie fixes Marigold's necklace so that the latch is in the back. It's her way of saying farewell. Haymitch leans in close to Gale. "Run away from the cornucopia and find water as fast as you can."

Gale nods in understanding. He makes a strange gesture and puts his hand out to Haymitch. Haymitch shakes it in farewell, a bond that only the two of them can comprehend. He enters the hovercraft shortly after little Marigold. This is the first and only tribute Haymitch really cared about. In a way, Gale reminded him of himself.

The hovercraft takes off into the air and soars away. Marigold and Gale sit across from one another. A woman asks them to hold their left arms out and places a strange syringe device underneath the bicep. There's a sharp pain, but it only lasts for a moment. She removes the syringe and the tributes can feel something hard underneath the skin; their trackers. The ride doesn't seem that long, but they expect the hovercrafts are just incredibly fast when they reach their destination. Cinna and Portia are already at the landing spot waiting for them.

"Portia! Cinna!" Marigold shrieks in delight. She runs over to Portia and hugs her. The two have grown very attached. Cinna nods towards both of them. Cinna smiles at him, nodding back. They are escorted to an elevator that descends far down into the earth. This elevator was strange; it moved side-to-side as well as up-and-down. They could be anywhere. They exit the elevators when it comes to a stop, leading to a large, empty cement room. Portia takes Marigold's hand and walks to the right corner of the room where there is another door. Marigold looks back Gale, then she disappears with the stylist.

"We're to the left." Cinna explains. They enter the door waiting to their left and are lead to another room. There's a white tank, gray shirt, and brown-green cargo pants waiting for Gale on the wall. Cinna walks over to it, unhooks the attire, and brings it to Gale. "Here, change into this while I get your shoes."

If any other stylist had been in the room, Gale would have refused to get undressed. But he trusts Cinna, and so does as he's told. Cinna respects his privacy by not looking his way until he hears the shuffling of the clothes has stopped. He hands Gale a pair of brown socks and black boots.

"We're going to make sure you win, Gale." Cinna says.

"Why?" Gale asks. It seemed weird to just make a promise like that.

"Because Katniss is my friend, and you may not know it, but you mean everything to her." He explains. Gale nods in appreciation, then a voice sounds on the loudspeaker.

* * *

Bodies curled with Myka's head on Finnick's chest and neck, it's hard to wake up the two. They look peaceful and happy. Mattie shakes Finnick and his tired green eyes flutter open. He inhales loud through his nose and notices Mattie. "Hey," is all he manages to get out.

Mattie smiles his way and mouths a "time to go" before leaving the room. Finnick looks back down at the sleeping form on his body. He wraps his arms around him and kisses his mouth, waking the boy from his sleep.

"We've got to go." Finnick mumbles, drowsy.

"Okay." Myka lifts himself from Finnick and walks over to the dresser to grab some clothes. Finnick watches him as he gets dressed, smirking at his naked form. Myka has noticed, but instead of saying anything about it, he reaches into the drawer and throws a set of clothes Finnick's way. They chuckle and Finnick gets dressed.

Porpoise and Mattie are talking about what to do when the Games begin. Myka overhears the conversation and notes that the Careers will be making their way into the cornucopia to grab the weapons. Finnick offers different advice.

"Don't do that. If you can manage to grab a weapon, great. If not, run as far and as fast as you can. They have a whole group and you don't have any allies. They'll kill you in an instant if you give them a chance." He whispers into Myka's ear. Myka nods, and then there are guards at the door. They knock twice before opening the door and announcing their departure. The four follow them to the hovercraft on the roof. Finnick and Myka hold hands the entire way there.

"I'll be waiting for you when you get back." Finnick says. He takes off the carefully braided necklace around his neck and places it around Myka's. "Your token." He explains. Myka clings to Finnick, tears threatening to fall. "I love you, Myka." He whispers.

"I love you, too, Finnick." They let each other go and Finnick leans in for a kiss. Their lips touch in affection and sadness. It was the worst goodbye they ever felt. Myka steps into the hovercraft and it flies away leaving Finnick feeling empty and broken.

No words are exchanged between Myka and Porpoise. The tension was already thick in the air. A man inserts a tracker in each of their arms and they are quiet the whole ride there. Myka is annoyed when he notices he can't look out the window; they've been tinted dark so that they couldn't see outside. Probably for security reasons.

They land on another roof where Vernalli and Poenia are waiting for them. Myka hopes Vernalli isn't the last person he'll see before entering the arena. He's relieved when Poenia struts his way to him gives him a hug.

"You're going to look so charming! The uniforms are so dull and boring, but they'll bring out your pretty eyes." She beams at his intense sky-blue and lime-green eyes. He smiles at her. Then they are all walking to an elevator. It, too, brings them into a large room with two separate doors. Porpoise and Vernalli enter the one on the right; Myka and Poenia to the left. The attire is similar to Gale's; there's a tank, gray shirt, and brown-green cargo pants, but the tank is a forest green instead of white. Poenia helps him change into the new uniform. He should be nervous, but has learned to enjoy her company. If anything, he was less comfortable with another person helping him change than being naked in front of her. They put on his socks and black boots, and wait for further direction.

A voice sounds on the intercom.

* * *

"Tributes, please step onto your podiums."

Cinna and Gale share a look. Gale walks to the podium and stops just before stepping on. Cinna walks over to him and offers him a hug. It was a bit of a relief. Then Gale steps onto the podium where a glass shield rises from the ground, trapping him inside. He looks above him and the podium begins to lift until Gale is no longer in Cinna's sight.

* * *

"Thank you, Poenia." Myka says before stepping on the podium. She smiles at him and watches as the glass rises and encases him inside. He looks around him, then stares at Poenia as the podium begins to rise. Soon, Poenia disappears and all he sees is black.


	22. Chapter 22

The tributes are lifted into the arena. The countdown has begun. They take in their surroundings. There are four different options. On one side, there's a forest. On another, a beach. The third showcases a meadow with high grass. And the last is a wheat field. The tributes are encircling the cornucopia. They all glance at their options; closest to them are small objects here and there. Inside the mouth of the cornucopia are weapons.

Gale remembers Haymitch told him to run as soon as possible, but he knows he's faster than most of the tributes. He eyes the weapons closest to the forest, waiting for the countdown to be over. Myka does the same. He knows the Careers will take after him and the beach was too predictable. He makes a mental note to avoid it completely.

_5… 4… 3… 2… 1!_

Everyone races as fast as their legs can carry them. Marigold runs away into the forest before anyone notices. Gale runs, then slides when a knife is thrown in his direction. He successfully dodges it and grabs a backpack, a knife, and the bow and arrows. He runs into the forest. Myka instantly regrets his decision. All of the Careers have their focus on him. He's able to snatch a backpack near the mouth of the cornucopia before racing towards the forest. He hears a swift sound in the air and instinctively turns around. He sees the knife soaring towards him before he reaches his arm over his body, catching the knife, twirling it in the opposite direction and throwing it back at the tribute who tossed it in his direction. It stabs the male Career from District 3 in the eye. He spins around and takes off running again.

* * *

Myka quickly discovered that running into the woods was probably a moronic choice. He knows nothing about living in the forest. He can't climb, he doesn't recognize a lot of the plants, and he doesn't know how to hunt or search for water. He found a small cave that he decided to nest in for the night. He carefully placed boulders and vines around it so that it gave the appearance of large rocks. Nobody would be able to recognize it was a cave. He opens his bag to see what he managed to grab.

A bag of crackers, a knife, a sweater, and probably the most helpful items in his bag; two bottles filled with water. Myka lets out an audible sigh of relief; He couldn't hope for anything better. He puts on the sweater to keep warm, and watches through a peak hole he made through the caves to observe the sky when he hears the cannons start.

* * *

Gale has been running for hours. It's nearly sunset when he decides to take a break. He climbs a large tree until he's sure his whole body is hidden in the leaves and branches. When he's sure no one is nearby, he opens the backpack. Inside is a water bottle (but it's empty), rope, and a bag of apples. Instead of being pleased with his find, he is incredibly annoyed that he had to have heavy fruit in his bag. It's completely dark out now. He takes out one of the apples and places everything back in the bag, setting it on the oversized branch where he uses it as a makeshift pillow. It's freezing outside, but he knows better than to start a fire. He takes a bite of his apple when the cannons fire.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8.

Eight tributes have died today. There's a loud pitched scream in the distance, then another cannon fires.

Nine.

Gale watches the sky to see which tributes have died. Their picture, name, and district number appear one at a time. The first is the male Career from District 3. That was a shock. Then male tribute from District 5; The female from 6; Both tributes from 8; The male from 9; Both tributes from 10; And the female from 11. That left the Careers (with the exception of the male from District 3), the female from 5, the male from 6, both tributes from 7, the female from 9, the male from 11, and Marigold. He tries to remember if the other tributes were any particular threat, but nothing comes to mind aside from the Careers, the male tribute from 11, and the male tribute from 4.

Deciding it would be beneficial to get a couple hours of rest, he falls asleep.

* * *

Myka pans out which tributes are left in the arena. As he feared, all the Careers (aside from the male from District 3) were very much alive. No doubt, they'd set out to kill him immediately. Perhaps he should have been looking for allies during training. Who would he have asked though? The female tribute from 5 was socially awkward and obviously liked to keep to herself. He couldn't remember anything about the male tribute from 6. The tributes from 7 were both great with an ax, but they were very adamant about not working with anyone. And, honestly, the female would have probably killed him in his sleep. She was a bit crazy. The female from 9 didn't seem to have a whole lot of talent. Actually, she didn't seem to have a whole lot going on upstairs either. Myka wondered if she was slightly autistic. The male from 11 would have made an incredible ally- in the beginning. Having to fight him would have been one of the most frightening challenges ever. He hopes it won't come down to the two of them. Then there were the tributes from 12; Marigold was sweet and he actually enjoyed her company. But realistically, she was more of a burden than any help. He wouldn't kill her, but protecting her could get him killed in the process. All that was left was the male tribute from 12. He was intelligent, skilled with the bow and arrows (and probably hunting), and paid close attention to the plants. Perfect.

_'Wait, that asshole called me a pervert.'_ Myka suddenly remembers. He couldn't trust him. Come to think of it, he'd probably be little use if he didn't have any weapons. _'He hits like a bitch anyway.'_

Myka lays down in the cave, wrapping himself in the warm sweater, and falls asleep.

* * *

Katniss is relieved after watching the first day of the Games. She knows Gale will do fine. In fact, he'll probably do even better than she did. Peeta is the one that looks more worried than she does. She turns off the television and lays next to him in the bed. He looks at her with a sort of softness that just brought out the best in people. Katniss moves the loose strands of hair in Peeta's face behind him and hovers over him. They gaze into each other's eyes and share a sweet, gentle kiss.

* * *

Finnick is glued to the television screen. Myka is already asleep, but he can't risk going to bed and missing anything. The worry puts him in a state of grief and depression. Myka didn't belong in the Games. He was meant to be with Finnick. They should both be lazing around the beach, sweating from the summer heat, and making it in the ocean. Myka would be living with him. He'd love his little nephew, help Finnick teach him how to throw a proper spear. His family would love and accept Myka with open arms. Even the Capitol would leave them alone. Finnick wouldn't have anymore "clients" and would never have to step foot into the Capitol again. And Myka would be his forever.


	23. Chapter 23

The second day proved to be quite uneventful. No cannons were fired and it seemed the tributes were far enough from one another that there wasn't any confrontation. Gale takes advantage of this and builds a couple of snares. With any luck, he'll catch a rabbit or two. In the meantime, he continues to walk deeper into the forest in search of water. His mouth is dry, the lips already starting to crack from the heat. Running all day yesterday didn't help the fatigue either. The temperature gets warmer; it must be over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. He knew the Gamemakers were doing this purposely. They wanted the other tributes to search the same areas for water, hopefully leading to another bloodbath. His feet begin to drag and he needs to hold on to tree branches as he continues to walk by. He takes off his shirt and tank and places the garments of clothing in his backpack, letting the sweat pour down his exposed back and chest. It offers little relief.

Gale is pretty tough, but soon the heat is unbearable. He starts to hallucinate and stumble. _'Why the hell isn't Haymitch or Katniss helping me out? I'm dying here.'_ Just as the thought crosses his mind, a small parachute soars through the air. Gale thinks he's hallucinating again and ignores it until the package lands at his feet. He kicks it, testing to see if it were real or not. It is. He flops down on the ground and opens the canister. _'Finally!'_ He gulps down the water and notices a small note.

"Keep looking. – H." So he's close by- thank goodness. He takes a couple more sips until he's finished half of it. He stands back up and continues on his quest. About an hour later, he notices something moving in a bush. He stops in his tracks, quietly takes out his bow and an arrow. He positions himself when a rabbit hops out of the shrub. He lets the arrow go and it pierces through the rabbits neck. There's one meal. Then it hits him; where there's game, there's water. He picks up the rabbit by the ears and races forward. A few minutes later he hears the gentle swish of water. He breaks through some shrubs and sees it- it's a small creek.

He runs to the running water and cups his hand into the stream, bringing it to his lips to take small, eager sips. He pulls the backpack off from around his shoulder and pulls out the empty water bottle. He fills it and drinks until he's hydrated again, making sure to refill the bottle and the canister Haymitch had sent him. He decides he'll stay here for the night. But first, he needed to grab his snares so that nobody would be clued as to his whereabouts. He jumps into the stream to cool off. His pants would dry shortly with this heat. When he's cooled down, he picks up his arrows and wears them on his back. Then he places the bow around the backpack and slings it over his shoulder. He goes back in the direction he came from.

Of the four traps he made, three have caught game. It was a lucky catch. He releases the snares and puts the game into his backpack. He double checks his surroundings, making sure there are no tracks or any other clues that could let the other tributes know he was there. When he's satisfied, he scampers back to the creek. He decides to help himself to one of the rabbits, skinning it with his knife while resting up high in a tree.

* * *

Unfortunately, Myka needs a little bit more help from his sponsors right away. He's a great fisher and can identify any plant or creature near the ocean. But these woods were going to be the death of him. Why did he choose to go running over here again, anyway? The Careers might be looking for him near the water, but he might have had a better chance with them rather than this horrid forest and desert heat. He's unsure which direction to go as he continues to walk further and further into the woods. A couple hours in, he's exhausted, hungry, and tired. He stops walking and decides to take a break. He pulls out one of the water bottles and helps himself to a quarter of it. He'd better not drink anymore. He's not sure when, or if, he'll be running into water again.

The heat is just miserable. He took off his sweater and shirt a long time ago, stuffing them into his backpack. His tank was starting to soak in sweat, but it offered a sort of cooling sensation and protected his pale skin from the sun. He sits on a boulder and thinks about Finnick. His lime-green and bright-yellow eyes turn into any icy blue. It was only the second day, but he was starting to feel very lonely. A large parachute soars into the air and breaks him from his trance when it lands in a bush nearby. He picks it up and reads the note.

"Hang in there. I miss you. – F." He smiles at the note. He tucks it into his pocket and opens the container. It's a rather large plastic bowl with beef stew and rice trapped inside.

"Thank you, Finnick." Myka smiles.

* * *

When nightfall hits, there are no cannons. Nobody has died today. Gale is sleeping in his tree, up high from anyone's view. Myka has woven a soft sheet made from the moss and vines in the trees and uses it to protect himself from the elements on the ground. He's sleeping in the bushes after carefully placing them to shield him from possible eyes. It's not the most comfortable, but it works.

* * *

In the Districts, friends and families of the tributes are being interviewed and televised. Some of them weep, mourning their loss. Some plead for sponsors to help aid their loved ones. Others stand tall and proud of their children. But it's District 12 that has the biggest story to tell.

Hazelle Hawthorne is going ballistic. No one has ever seen her go so mad. She's screaming in hysterics and crying a storm. "It's not fair!" She screams. "It's not fair! They can't do this! They're my boys! Don't you understand? They're my boys!" Even the television crew is uncomfortable. People watch in shock as Hazelle continues to rave on. No one is understanding what she's talking about.

"Miss Hawthorne, your son, Gale, is fine. He's doing so well." The woman tries to calm her down. Hazelle yells at her.

"No! My sons! Both of my boys!" Everyone is looking for her children, but they're standing right next her completely fine save for the shock on their faces due to their mother's extreme behavior.

"Miss Hawthorne, they're right next to you. They're fine." The woman says.

"You idiot! In the Games! Gale and Myka! Myka is my son!" She crying now. "His father stole him from me when he was a baby. This isn't fair! He was born here in District 12! He's from this District!" She screams.

No one was prepared for that. No one- Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Effie, Finnick, Mattie, Cinna, Portia, Seneca, President Snow- everyone is in shock and doesn't know what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened before.


	24. Chapter 24

The Capitol is in a new wave of hysteria. Even the districts are beginning to riot. Everyone is debating whether or not the Games were fair this year; On one hand, Myka was raised in District 4. It's all he knows and his father is from the District. On the other hand, the rules clearly state that tributes must be born from their Districts. It's an absolutely outrageous dilemma. President Snow and the Gamemakers are scheduled to have a group discussion concerning the matter tomorrow. Until then, the Games would continue and the tributes will not know the circumstances. Their mentors are forbidden to mention any of it.

* * *

The Careers have figured out that Myka is not anywhere near the beach. The wheat field seemed a plausible location, but one of the tributes, the male from District 11, was killed by the mutts that lived in the tall grasses. The canons fired at the discovery of his corpse; his body was found in a pool of his own blood. His throat had been slashed mercilessly. Everyone knew to avoid the field from then on. That left the meadow or the forest. They take their best guess and head into the forest.

* * *

Myka has decided to head in the direction of the beach. He wasn't going to survive very long in the woods alone. He didn't carry the necessary skills to do so. He walks through the shrubs as quietly as he can, though he still manages to make the leaves beneath his feet crack with noise. Then another noise reaches his ears. He stops in his tracks and hides behind a tree. He sees little Marigold picking roots from the ground, collecting food. The fear drops. He steps forward, cracking the leaves under his feet again, and Marigold's head snaps up in his direction. She hesitates.

"Hey little Marigold. It's a relief to see you." Myka says softly. She looks at him with distrust. Understanding her situation, Myka takes off his backpack and takes his knife out of his pocket. He shows it to her before tossing it to the ground, away from them. She smiles.

"Hi Myka. I thought you were going to kill me." She says honestly.

"Why would I kill you? You're the only tribute I like." Myka laughs. She beams at him.

"Want to help me pick roots?" She asks. He walks towards her.

"Sure. How do I know which ones to pull? I don't know roots very well." He explains. She considers this and brings a couple of roots to him.

"You see how this leaf is shaped? It means it's edible." She says simply.

Too bad the plant identification station in training wasn't this simple. "Oh. Okay. Thank you, Marigold."

"You're welcome!" She skips back to her section and starts digging more roots.

"Is this all you've had to eat?" Myka suddenly asks, digging his hands in the dirt.

"They're not bad. The soft ones are actually really good." She explains. Myka grabs his backpack and takes out the stew and rice. He hands it to her.

"Really?" She looks up in excitement.

"Of course. Help yourself." He smiles. She eats small portions of the food. When she's finished a third of the remaining food, she puts it back in his backpack.

"Does this mean we're allies?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"If you want to be." Myka nods. She grins an "Okay!" and puts the roots she's pulled into the backpack as well. They continue to dig and place them in the backpack.

* * *

Gale's just heard voices coming from his left. They don't sound like predators, but he also doesn't want anyone too close to his creek. He makes out two voices, but can't tell who they belonged to. He grabs his bow and arrows and noiselessly climbs up a tree near the noise. When he's high enough and comfortable with his position, he looks down and sees them. It's Marigold and the male tribute from District 4. _'Fucker really is trying to trick her.'_

He places an arrow in the bow, pulling the string back. He aims at Myka's heart. Nobody would see it coming, he's hidden so well. But then there's another set of laughter. He looks over the trees and can see the Careers heading in their direction.

Myka stops digging. "Marigold, be very quiet." He whispers. He crawls over to a bush and looks behind it. In the near distance, he can see the Career pack. He crawls back to Marigold. "Take the backpack and hide. Don't come out until it's safe. You can fit in the log over there. Don't make a sound, okay?"

Marigold's frantic eyes make Myka nervous. She crawls into the tiny space with the backpack in hand. Myka looks around for his own options. He starts to crawl towards a patch of tall shrubs when a knife goes flying into the air and lands right next to his face.

_'Shit!'_

Gale is observing the scene from above. He doesn't have enough arrows with him to take out all of the Careers. He decides to stay quiet and watch from his distance. He's dumbstruck that Myka had just saved Marigold. It doesn't make sense to him, and so he still doesn't trust him.

Myka looks around him frantically. His one and only weapon is in the backpack. He can't risk having Marigold killed for one stupid knife. It wouldn't matter anyway. He could throw the knife that just landed right next to him, but it still wouldn't do any good against six other tributes that are heavily armed. He turns around, laying on his back, waiting to see what they do to him. If he can make a guess, he's sure his death will be a slow and painful one. Cato looks down at him smugly.

"Remember that promise I made to you, little mermaid?"

* * *

Finnick is in a state of panic. He doesn't know what to do. Mattie tries to console him, rubbing his arms and telling him everything will be alright. He yanks his arms away from her. He doesn't want to be touched right now. _'Have to think. Think, Finnick, think! What are your options? Shit! How do I save him? What can I do? He can't die!'_ He slams his palms to his temples. He can't think of anything. Then it hits him. He storms over to the Gamemakers and demands to speak with Seneca Crane.

Seneca is unaware of the events in the arena at the very moment. He's just come out of a meeting with President Snow. Between his messy hair, wide green eyes, and shaking form, Seneca knows something is wrong with Myka.

"You have to help him!" Finnick cries. "I can't save him. I can't save him!"

Seneca simply stares at the mentor before him. "You know I can't do anything that jeopardizes the Games for a single tribute. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do." And he walks away into the Gamemakers' workroom.

Finnick grabs his bronze hair in hysteria, pacing back and forth. He's out of options. Myka was going to die today. He races back to the television, anxiously watching the screen for any clues as to how to help his tribute and lover.

* * *

Porpoise has a dagger in her hand. She slings her arm back to throw it at the blue-and-yellow-eyed tribute in front of them. Cato stops her, bringing his sword close to her face. "No!" He yells. "This one's mine!" Porpoise shoots Myka a glare and turns her heel, stomping away. "Glimmer! Clove! Make sure she gets to the cornucopia. Kill the girl from 9." He orders. The female tributes take off after Porpoise. Cato takes a bag from the District 7 tribute. When in hell did he join the alliance? He pulls out some rope and Myka decides his best chance is to run. He turns around, begins to lift himself from the ground when another knife goes flying in his direction. He covers his head with his arms, terrified.

Cato trudges to Myka and pulls his arms behind his back with enough force to make him cry out in pain. He stomps a foot on Myka's back to prevent him from escaping, tying a rope around his arms and hands. He knots the rope tightly and wraps another around his neck. When the rope is secure around his throat, he uses a hand to tug his hair and keeps the rope in his other hand, using it as a leash to pull the bounded boy up to his feet. Cato yanks his hair back and whispers in his ear, "I told you I'd make everyone see the whore that you are, little mermaid. You're mine now."


	25. Chapter 25

Seneca watches the scene before him contemplating his options. He lied when he said he wouldn't help Myka, of course. He just wanted to see Finnick suffer.

Cato is hauling Myka by his new leash away from the woods, the tributes from 1 and 7 close behind. He wanted to make the pain last as long as possible before killing him. They make it halfway before Myka refuses to walk any further. If he was going to die, he was going to die here and now.

"Move it!" Cato shouts. Myka stands defiantly. Cato makes his way over with his sword in hand. He points it at Myka's throat. "I said 'move it!' Unless you _want_ this sword in your throat. Now!" Myka doesn't move. "Listen to me, you whore-" and he's cut off when Myka spits in his face. Cato wipes his face on his sleeve, shocked and disgusted. He hits Myka on the side of his skull with the handle of the sword and Myka falls to the ground with a _thud._ His lime green eyes groggily flutter half open, rolling in the back of his head. Cato had hit him hard enough to temporarily impair his mental state. But he doesn't stop there; he's still livid. He drops to the ground with Myka and beats him furiously with his fists, hitting his face, neck, and chest. When he's let out the majority of his aggression, he stands back up and kicks Myka in the ribs, back, and head. Myka is out cold.

* * *

Gale drops from the tree to the ground without making a single sound. He cautiously steps over to the log where Marigold is hiding. She's crying.

"Marigold?" Gale coos.

"G-Gale?" She sobs. She looks out and sees him looking at her with sympathetic eyes. She crawls out of the log and hugs him. "They took Myka away! I could hear them hurting him!"

"Shhh." Gale whispers. "It's okay, little one. It's okay." He rocks her from side to side. He's not sure why he came to her aid. Maybe it was because she reminded him of his little siblings. Keeping her safe is going to be one hell of a challenge. But for now, the Careers are occupied. Realizing the same thing, Marigold pulls herself out of Gale's grasp and backs away.

"We have to go get him, Gale!" She shrieks.

"Marigold, listen to me. I know you're upset, but we can't help him now." He touches her hand, but she yanks it away. She turns around and runs as fast as she can. "Marigold!" Gale shouts as he chases her.

* * *

The mentors and stylists are shouting at the Gamemakers. They demand to know what they plan on doing with Myka. These Games were not fair on anyone. District 4 and District 12 were either at an advantage or disadvantage. The arguments were strong on both points. Seneca stands up.

"I know everyone is upset with the recent news. I can promise you that we will come up with a reasonable decision tonight. The other Gamemakers and I will take everything said into consideration when he make our decision. Until then, no one is to alarm the tributes. Anyone who does so will be punished. Thank you." He turns to leave when Finnick shouts.

"Myka needs to be pulled from the Games. It isn't fair to either of our districts. Let me take his place instead." Everyone looks at him in shock.

"I'm sorry, Odair, but that isn't possible. Sending you into the Games creates an unfair advantage. Also, you've already participated in the Games and you are too old. The answer is no." Seneca and the other Gamemakers leave the room and the shouting continues. No one is happy with this.

* * *

Myka awakes several hours later tied to a post. It's freezing outside and he has nothing to cover himself from the deathly cold except his black undergarment. He feels a splitting headache and realizes how sore his body is. He can taste copper in his mouth from the bleeding of his busted lip. His left eye is swollen shut and he's covered in bruises. There's the sound of a crack nearby and he tries his best to move his head in the direction of it.

"This is a good look for you." Cato sneers. He kneels down next to Myka, stroking the bruise on his cheek. Myka flinches at the contact. "What? Does that hurt? I haven't even gotten started yet!"

Myka turns his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. He tightens his body close together, trying to keep warm. With his back turned to Cato, the Career slips a hand underneath his undergarment. Myka whimpers and tries to recoil his body away from Cato to no avail. The malicious blonde turns Myka onto his back and spreads his legs apart. He slips his hand back underneath the fabric and pushes a finger into Myka. It hurts. Myka bucks his hips in pain. Cato smirks and enters another finger. "Cry for me, whore. Tell me you love it." Myka whines at the stinging of his muscle slowly tearing.

* * *

Seneca is watching the scene before him on his screen. Cato is touching Myka the way he wants to, but it's bringing Myka pain. It angers him. He strides to the Gameboard and starts to build away. It takes about a minute for him to finish his creation when he sends it into the Games.

* * *

Cato has just slipped in a third finger and Myka is drenched in sweat. There's a small pool of blood collecting under his seat. "Scream for me, whore." Cato snickers again. He pushes in another finger. This time, Myka howls in pain. "Good boy." Cato laughs. The bushes nearby shake. Cato rolls his eyes and grabs the sword from the ground. He stands up and shouts toward the noise. "Get the fuck out of there, moron."

Just as he says it, three wolves come out from the shrubs. Their eyes burn yellow and they're staring hungrily at Cato. He steps back. _'Mutts!"_ When they inch closer, Cato takes off running. Two of them chase him. The last claws towards Myka on the ground.

_'Better a wolf than by Cato.'_ He thinks to himself. He waits for the mutt to attack him. Instead, it walks straight up to him, their eyes locking. Myka's eyes start to change to the bright yellow he possessed when he threw the trident at Cato during training, reflecting the wolf in front of him. It sniffs him and stares back into his eyes. Suddenly, the wolf bites at the rope containing Myka's hands until it breaks free. Myka hesitantly brings his hand up to the mutt. There's a moment of uncertainty before Myka strokes the wolf's fur. It licks his hand and abruptly takes off in the direction of the others. It takes a moment for Myka to realize he's free.

* * *

President Snow and Seneca are in a greenhouse garden filled with white roses. It smells sweet, like perfume. The room looks like the sun is shining on the plants, but it's night and nowhere near as beautiful outdoors as it is in here.

"Why did you save him?" President Snow demands. Seneca walks next to him, politely keeping his hands behind his back.

"I had an idea." He answers.

President Snow ponders what's going on through Seneca's head. "And what's that?"

"We announce that two tributes from District 12 or 4 may win, but the tributes are not to know about it. Should they be the last ones remaining, we crown two victors." Seneca explains.

"Two victors again? Do you never learn from your past mistakes? You realize I may need a new head Gamemaker when this is all over." President Snow stops walking and looks at Seneca. His confidence suddenly falters.

"I know what you're thinking, but hear me out. If we announce the possibility of two victors, the Districts are happy. Telling them that the tributes are not allowed to know this makes the other Districts believe it's fair-"

"Fair? The female District 4 tribute will never win these games. It looks like the only option of two victors winning is if Myka and one of the tributes from District 12 win." His lips purse in thought.

"Exactly. It's another win for us, President Snow." Seneca continues.

President Snow doesn't follow. "How do you figure that?"

Seneca pauses for a moment, looking for the right words. He wants this to run smoothly. "Myka must be taken away from Districts 4 and 12 because of the Games. He stays in the Capitol with us."

"And how would that benefit the Capitol?" he snorts.

"Well, sir, how much do you think people will pay for two of the most alluring brother victors in their beds?" They both share a sinister smile, finally getting the gist of the plan.


	26. Chapter 26

Myka runs as far from the cornucopia as his legs can carry him. Unfortunately, it's not that far. He's too sore to move much, despite his will to do so. But he needs to find shelter. He's much too exposed and vulnerable to any tribute that wants him dead. Aside from Marigold, that makes everybody. He plans to get to the cave he found the first day of the Games. It's his best chance for survival. He drags his feet one-by-one until his legs give out and he falls to the ground. _'Can't stay here. I can't stay here!'_ He begins to crawl towards the cave. He's not much further away, only a couple more feet to go. Pretty soon, his body is giving up on him entirely. When he can no longer crawl, he drags himself by the arms.

It's a strenuous journey, but he finally makes it to the mouth of the cave, exhausted. As soon as he does, a parachute soars to his feet. He picks it up from the ground, and opens it. There's medicine inside. Expensive medicine. His sponsors must still want him to win. He notices the small note.

"Rub it _everywhere. _It might make you sick. –F." He laughs at the note. _'It'll make you sick and better.'_ Oh, the irony. Then he notices another small parchment.

"P.S. Come home to me. I love you. – F." Myka rolls the parchment up and grabs the medicine. He rubs the goopy substance on his eye, lip, cheek, temple, neck, chest, arms, legs, back, and his… lower region. He's too tired to do anything else. He crawls deeper into the cave and collapses on the ground. The fatigue soon takes over and he falls asleep, not caring about the cold.

* * *

Marigold had taken off. At first, Gale was able to keep up with her and nearly touch her. But she was so quick. She ran even faster and pretty soon, he lost sight of her. He kept at her trail though, until sunset started to fall. By then, he'd lost her tracks. He decides it's best to hide out in one of the trees and rest. He'll search for her again tomorrow.

Three cannons shoot in the air. The faces of the female tributes from Districts 1 and 3 appear in the sky. As does the male tribute from District 7.

_'The Career pack? How?_' Gale calculates it in his head; that leaves the male Career from District 1, both from 2, both from 4, the male from 6, the girl from 7, Marigold, himself, and… one other tribute, but he can't remember who. Four Careers and four other tributes, excluding himself and Marigold. That leaves a total of ten; eight to worry about. The numbers are quickly dropping, but he's still got a ways to go before these Games were over.

* * *

It's early morning when Myka wakes up. He looks around the cave and remembers what happened last night. He looks down at his wounds to see they've completely healed. When he moves the rocks from the cave to exit, he sees two more parachutes waiting for him. He picks up the smaller one first, reading the note.

"When you come back home, I expect you to cook me a delicious breakfast. You know, for being the best mentor and all. – F." When he looks inside, he sees sausage links and biscuits. They're still hot. Myka quickly devours the food before he takes notice of the larger parachute. He reads the note on this one as well.

"I personally prefer you without clothes on, but I understand it's cold. – F." Myka laughs in embarrassment. Even miles away, Finnick could make him smile. He reaches in and pulls out the extra set of clothing. He quickly discards his soiled undergarments, carefully wiping away any dried blood from his body, and changes into the new, fresh clothing. It even smells good. Given that thought, he probably reeked all sorts of havoc.

Feeling better than before, Myka closes the cave and brushes the vines around it, making the cave look like boulders and rocks again. He doesn't plan on coming back, but it's a spot he's familiar with in case he needs to ever hide out here again. He decides to head into the direction of the environment he knows best; the beach. The forest just wasn't his place. And if he wanted any weapons from sponsors, he needed to be in his comfort zone where they knew he'd do well.

Myka starts to head in the direction of the sea. He decides to go through the woods and avoid the cornucopia where he's sure the Careers are lingering around. He walks for several hours. He's starting to get tired until he notices the dark, wet rocks. He's close! But then he hears a high-pitched scream up ahead.

* * *

By morning, Gale has caught Marigold's tracks again. He follows the broken twigs and crushed leaves on the ground, searching for her. He finds a root stem on the ground. It's still wet. He's close.

He continues walking in the direction of the crushed foliage when he hears a loud scream. He recognizes the voice. It's Marigold! Gale runs towards the direction of the screaming. He climbs a cascade of rocks, constantly slipping. These rocks were slippery and uneven. He catches sight of her at the very peak of the rocks. The male tribute from 6 is huddled over her, an ax at hand. He swings his arms back, but just as he's about to swing forward, Gale leaps forward and pushes him. They both lose their footing, and suddenly Gale is rolling down the mountain of rocks. He hits his leg against a sharp piece of granite on his way down, making a loud cracking sound and blood spills all over the place. Then his wrist snaps. He drops at least a hundred feet from the mountain.

He falls into the sea of hungry waves, slamming into the rocks.

Then the cannon fires.


	27. Chapter 27

Katniss has stopped breathing completely. She's on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Peeta sits back in horror. He never really wanted Gale to die. Haymitch drops his drink. Everything just became real. Cinna has dropped his sketch pad to the ground. He failed to keep his promise. Portia snips her dress prematurely with her scissors. She can't focus. Hazelle is screaming in tears. She just lost her eldest son. Gale's little siblings are crying. They'll never see their brother again. And Seneca Crane is staring at the screen, waiting.

* * *

Marigold is crying as she looks over the edge. No one could survive the fall. If you didn't hit the rocks waiting on the bottom, the waves would take you under or throw you into the rocks. There's a gush of blood in the water.

"Gale! Gale!" Marigold screams over and over again. Myka has just reached the top of the rocks. He pushes Marigold away from the edge.

"Go to the shores! Now!" He yells. Then he does something crazy; he jumps off the cliff and dives into the roaring ocean. Marigold doesn't know what to do. _'He killed himself! He just killed himself!'_

Myka is having an incredibly hard time under the water. The waves force him forward and backward and it's difficult to see anything with the current. But then he spots Gale trapped in between two rocks. The waves must have forced him between the boulders. He's suffocating, trying desperately to free himself from the rocks. But he can't move one of his wrists and the leg is bleeding profusely where he banged it against the granite. Myka swims toward him. He's face to face with Gale now. He presses his mouth against the trapped man's mouth, trying to pry it open. Gale doesn't understand what the hell is going on until Myka manages to blow air into Gale's mouth.

_'Oh. So he's not trying to kiss me. He's trying to save me.'_

The wave slams Myka against the rocks and begins to suck him under the undertow when he grabs Gale's arm. The force is enough to pull them both free of the rocks, but Gale can't swim. Myka wraps Gale's arm around him and he desperately swims parallel to the waves. When he's managed to get them both away from the rocks, they surface and gasp for air. Gale hangs on tight to Myka's neck, letting him swim them both to shore. Another wave comes in, trying to pull the two tributes back into the ocean. But Myka's expert swimming skills fights the current and he's able to get them both to shore.

"I know this is going to hurt your ego, but hold on." Myka says as he lifts Gale out of the water, carrying him like an infant. This may be the one and only time Gale doesn't fight back. His hand and leg are in excruciating pain. Marigold is racing to the shore to meet them.

"Gale! You're bleeding!" She shrieks. Gale is losing a lot of blood, and quickly. Myka places him on the ground and takes off his own shirt, wrapping it around his leg as a tourniquet. He ties it as tight as he can.

The female tribute from District 7 charges at them with an ax. They're wounded. Now is the only chance she'll have. She swings the ax and Myka uses the force against her, throwing her body into a 180. He grabs her head and turns it so hard and fast, it makes a sickening _crack_ sound and she falls to the ground. Another cannon fires. Marigold stares in shock. When Myka takes notice of her traumatized form, his bright yellow eyes dim down to a soft blue. He didn't want her to see that.

"Marigold, I'm so sorry." He says. She's too stunned to say anything or move.

The remaining Careers hear the cannons and know exactly who it is. They set off to the shores to finish Myka off. Myka can see them in the distance. He grabs Marigold's hand and races over to Gale, lifting him over his shoulder. "Run!" He shouts.

* * *

The assembly between the Gamemakers and mentors is over. Everyone is aware of the new rule. While some did not like it, it seemed the most appropriate option. The mentors are dismissed and the Gamemakers are walking away, but Finnick stops Seneca in his tracks.

"Seneca! We need to talk." He says.

The Gamemaker looks at him, amused. "What can I do for you, Finnick Odair?"

"You saved him, didn't you? You're the one that sent the mutts in." His face is like a child's, so animated and sincere.

Seneca cocks an eyebrow at him. "Mr. Odair, I have no idea what you're talking about." He winks before turning around. Finnick grabs his arm, stopping him yet again.

"If Myka wins, what's going to happen to him? I can't let the Capitol take him from me." He says honestly.

"Well, he is a very good looking tribute, Odair. I'm sure the Capitol would really enjoy his… company. Too bad nobody wants a mad victor. It'd be a shame if he went crazy after he won." He looks at Finnick straight in the face as he says this. Finnick takes the hint. Myka won't become one of President Snow's toys if they can manage to make him seem crazy after winning the Games. It's perfect. No one touched Annie after the Games because her behavior made people uncomfortable. This was Myka's out. Finnick nods his head.

"Thank you. Thank you!" He whispers before taking off to watch the screen. He wants to make sure Myka is okay.

Seneca smiles menacingly. Finnick had no idea what he was doing. If he played his cards right, Myka wouldn't be allowed back in the Districts. He'd have to stay with Seneca in the Capitol. And, if he can play the mad tribute, Seneca won't have to share him with anyone.

He's sure the Capitol will be content enough with Finnick Odair and Gale Hawthorne.


	28. Chapter 28

They took off into the woods, making strange zigzags in order to confuse and lose the Careers. Myka is running on pure adrenaline. Carrying Gale and pulling Marigold by the hand is an extremely tiring task. They duck into a pile of shrubs, waiting for the Careers. "This way!" Porpoise shouts as they take off in the opposite direction. When it's safe, they all let out a sigh of relief.

"Our backpacks are in a tree close by." Gale says.

"I have medicine for you a little further up. Lets grab your bags and we'll take a break at the cave." Myka suggests. Gale nods his head in agreement. Marigold just stares at them, her eyes wide and empty. Myka begins to carry the wounded tribute again when Gale stops him.

"I know you're trying to help, but maybe I can just hold onto you and try to walk." Gale hates being babysat like a child. Myka shakes his head.

"No can do. You'll slow us down and you're losing too much blood. We need to get you to the cave soon. C'mon." Myka slides his hands under Gale's knees and back, carrying him once again like a newborn. Gale grunts at this, embarrassed. He tries to yank himself away from Myka's grasp.

"Put me down!" He throws a fist into Myka's chest. Irritated, Myka throws him over his shoulder again, holding his knees for support. Gale can't cause much damage with an injured wrist and leg. He tries kicking and smacking, but it doesn't work. He gives up halfway to their destination. When they finally arrive at the tall tree, Myka stares up at it in puzzlement.

"I can't climb." He admits.

"Are you serious? It's just a couple feet up!" Gale snorts. They look at Marigold, who doesn't move or say anything.

"Marigold," Gale says, "Can you climb the tree and get the bags?" She looks up at him. She's not mad at Gale, just Myka. She nods her head and starts to climb.

* * *

There's a loud bang on the door. Finnick and Mattie share a look before opening it. A bewildered Katniss and annoyed Haymitch are standing before him.

"Hey, Haymitch and- um, Katniss, right?" She nods her head and bursts through the door. _'Sure, come right in.'_ Finnick thinks. Haymitch enters after her, then Finnick closes the door. "What, uh, what can I do for you?"

Katniss is the first to speak. "They both have to win! Gale is my… cousin. We can get them both back, but we can't let them do it on their own. I know Gale. If it comes down between the two of them and one other tribute, Gale will kill him. He'd never forgive me if he found out I knew your tribute was his brother and I let him kill him." _'At least she doesn't beat around the bush.'_

"Your tribute doesn't look like he can even feed himself right now. If it came down to Gale wanting to kill him, Myka would stop him dead in his tracks. Pun intended." Finnick defends Myka. How dare she storm in here uninvited and threaten his tribute.

"You're not getting it! How would Myka react after he found out he killed his brother?" Katniss says excitedly. She needed him to understand. It takes a moment, but he finally does.

"Okay. Well, what do you suggest? If any of us say anything to the tributes, it's our heads and our families on the line. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the reason for my family dying to save one person." He makes a good point. Katniss gasps, dumbfounded. She didn't really think about it. She was just desperate to save Gale and his brother. They were walking on eggshells as it was. She couldn't let him do anything to hate her for the rest of his life.

"I- I don't know." She finally says.

Finnick thinks for a moment. "Our best chance is to hope they don't kill each other. Maybe it will work out." But his words are a bit doubtful. Katniss nods her head, looks at the floor, and leaves the room defeated. Finnick takes his seat next to Mattie again, the depression evident on his face. Either way, they lose.

* * *

When Marigold manages to get the backpacks, the group decides to get moving immediately. They can stop when they get to the cave and figure out their next step. It's nearly nightfall when they reach the boulder of rocks. Myka sets Gale down and starts moving rocks. They see the mouth of the cave. Myka crawls in to grab the container of medicine. He takes off the shirt he tied around Gale's leg and rubs a good portion of the medicine on his wound. When he's done, he rewraps the leg.

"Get in. We'll be safe in here." Myka gestures to the cave. He carries Gale into it following Marigold. When they're inside, he moves the rocks to hide them from the outside. The canon shoots twice. Myka peaks out the cave to see the remaining tributes from 6 and 7 appear in the sky.

"It's 6 and 7. What does that leave us with?" Myka asks. Gale thinks for a moment.

"The male from 1, both tributes from 2, 4, Marigold, and I." He thinks hard. He's pretty sure he's listed them all. "What's our next move? We can't stay here. The Careers will be looking for us."

"I know." Myka answers. "I think we should change our direction. Lets head into the meadow tomorrow."

Gale takes his backpack and pulls out some apples and cooked rabbit. "Sounds good. Now how about we eat?"

* * *

An avox walks up to Finnick and hands him an off-white envelope. It's sealed shut with a clay stamp of a sweet smelling rose. It's from President Snow.

"Thank you." Finnick says to the avox. She blinks, then walks away. He opens the letter, wondering what President Snow could possibly want to say to him.

"Mr. Odair, your presence is requested at the tall tower tomorrow at 8pm sharp. Do not be late. – President Snow." Finnick re-reads the letter, hoping for some kind of clue. Of course, being "requested" really meant "summoned," but aside from that note, he couldn't possibly fathom why he was needed at all. Especially so far into the Games. He begins to wonder if it has something to do with his announcement with Myka during the interviews.

"What is it?" Mattie asks softly. Finnick had forgotten she was in the room. He looks over his shoulder and offers her a half smile.

"President Snow has requested my presence tomorrow at 8pm sharp." He mocks with a silly Capitol accent. She frowns at this.

"Well, whatever it is that he wants, I have your back, Fin." She says with a sad smile. Finnick knows there's more to it than what she's just saying. She knows something that he doesn't. But he knows her well, and he knows she won't tell him. There's a wicked pit in his stomach and he starts to feel sick. Something isn't right.


	29. Chapter 29

There's an eerie feeling in the air this morning. The weather is warm, but isn't scorching hot like the other days. The sky is clear and it's even beautiful outdoors. Gale is instantly suspicious. His leg is much better. The bleeding had stopped over night, and the gash had rapidly healed. He was still bruised, but it definitely beat an exposed bone and torn muscle. He's even able to walk, but his wrist unfortunately is still in a lot of pain. He can move it slightly, so he suspects it's strained and not broken. Their bags are packed and everyone has a weapon on hand. They carefully observe their surroundings before quietly stepping towards the meadow. Marigold refuses to look at Myka. She's still upset about yesterday. She holds Gale's hand on their way.

No sign of the Careers when they finally make it to the meadow by mid-day. They suspected the Careers were probably deep in the forest looking for them.

"What do we do here?" Marigold finally speaks. Myka looks back at her, hopeful that she's calmed down a little. She still refuses to look at him or smile.

"You know, we really should make a plan. We have food and weapons. We should ambush the Careers while they're sleeping. If we can't kill them right away, we'll still have the element of surprise and could cut their numbers." Gale suggests. Marigold puts her hands over her ears. She doesn't want to hear anymore talk of killing. Myka looks at her sympathetically.

"How about we find shelter?" Myka suggests. He and Gale share a look. They plan on finding someplace safe for Marigold so they could get down to business when she's comfortable and away from the Careers.

"Okay, lets head across the field. I can see trees just beyond it, which means there's probably water." They nod in agreement before heading towards the grassland.

The grass is tall and filled with beautiful plants and flowers. The atmosphere is even relaxed and peaceful. They walk deeper into the pasture and take notice of the strange-looking flowers. They've never seen these kinds before. Marigold trots ahead of them, examining a beautiful red flower. It looks like a hybrid between a hibiscus and an orchid. She leans in closer when it shoots out a fine red mist in her face. She sneezes.

Gale becomes aware of an alluring, sweet smell. It's coming from one of the dark purple flowers. The flower looks alien, it has dozens of thin petals with curling vines spreading out the stem. He can't help but bow towards the smell. He's looking into the winding center when it suddenly sprays an overly sweet vapor into his nostrils and mouth. He coughs up a storm.

"You alright, Gale?" Myka asks. Marigold is sneezing again, then freezes in her tracks. "Marigold?" He walks up closer to her, places a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, little Marigold?" She violently twists at his touch, her eyes wide and wild. They're glossed over with a blue film. She swings her right arm from below, across and up Myka's chest. He yells and clutches his chest where Marigold has just slashed him with a knife. She takes off running.

"Gale! Marigold's been bewitched by something!" When there is no sound, Myka looks behind him at Gale, whose looking away at the plants. "Gale?"

The young man before him turns in his direction. His eyes look strange. A semi-clear sheet of turquoise layers over them. Myka hesitates, watching to see if Gale pulls out his knife or the bow and arrows. He doesn't. He slowly walks over to Myka until they're inches apart. Then Gale raises his hands and gingerly places them on Myka's cheeks. He leans his face in and kisses Myka on the mouth. Myka turns away, furious. "What the hell, Gale?"

Gale tries to repeat his actions, resulting in being pushed away. Myka turns to get away, but Gale seizes his arm, pulling him back. The conflicting forces cause them both to trip to the ground. Myka tries to crawl away when Gale grabs him by the foot and drags him closer. He has Myka pinned underneath him. His hands slide up Myka's chest. Then the shocked, scared form beneath him kicks him hard in the chest. Myka manages to get out of his grasp and he runs.

The group of three have been split up.

* * *

The tall tower is a grandeur of a sight. The gold paint softly reflects the sun, creating a luxurious glow. There's no telling how many rooms there are in the building; the floors seem to just go up and up and up. Finnick walks into the building, unsure of where he's supposed to go. A woman with pastel pink skin and purple hair greets him with a large grin.

"Welcome, Finnick. Let me just say it is a _pleasure_ to meet you. Please hold out your arm so I can put in your security chip." He does as she requests. There's a slight sting to his bicep, but it's nothing he hasn't felt before. She caresses his arm. "Excellent! Follow me, please!" Her voice is high and chipper. He hates it.

"You're even more good looking in person." She sighs. "It's a shame you're committed to the boy. I was really hoping to see you in your best suit." She's obviously talking about renting him. He offers her a sly smile.

"Trust me, if I weren't already so madly in love, I might have fallen for you." He purrs. She giggles, batting her eyelashes.

"I always figured you to be enticing, but you, Finnick Odair, are just charming. Oh, how I would love to make you mine." She says with a pout. They stop at a large door. "They're waiting for you inside. It was a pleasure meeting you." She touches down his chest.

"The pleasure is mine." He assures her, kissing her hand. She walks away with a blush.

Not knowing whether he was supposed to just walk in or knock, he decides to just go for it and enters through the door. President Snow and Seneca Crane are standing by a vase of white roses. They see him and President Snow gestures him inside.

"Finnick Odair! Welcome. I see you're on time." He smiles. Finnick nods his head, unsure of the whole situation. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here."

"Yes, President Snow." Finnick tries to remain polite. It's difficult to stay calm around the man that killed your mother and lover, and made you a whore.

"Please, sit down!" He beams. Finnick hesitantly takes a seat in the delicately structured chair before him. It's white with complex woodwork. He waits for President Snow or Seneca to say something. "Well, Finnick, we wanted to make a deal with you."

_ 'Oh no, not another deal. Please not another deal. What more could you possibly take from me?'_ "Y-yes, sir?"

"I understand you've made an announcement about being in a relationship with your tribute, Myka Volkan. Unfortunately, this ruins the contract you and I had previously made when you were crowned victor." _'Shit! I knew it!'_

"President Snow, I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

"Shhh! I know. Love makes you do crazy things. I understand... which is why I'd like to make a sort of arrangement with you." He smirks.

"What kind of arrangement, sir?" Finnick is terrified to hear the answer. President Snow smiles at him and presses a button near the desk.

"Bring her in." He says into the small callbox. A door on the right side of the room opens and Annie Cresta is escorted through.

"Annie!" Finnick shouts. "But I saw the accident on the screen and-"

"Oh, yes. I'm told we had some… technical difficulties in the District 4 building resulting in some random broadcasts. So sorry about that."


	30. Chapter 30

Gale awakes to another warm day and a splitting ache in his temples and neck. He doesn't know where he is or how he got here. But he's alone on the grass. He rolls over his side, clutching his head. It takes several minutes for the enormous headache to finally subside. Realizing the severity of his situation, having been exposed without any trace of Marigold or Myka, he knows something went terribly wrong.

_'That's it! No more alliances.'_

He walks through the meadow, searching for some sort of clue as to where he is exactly. He doesn't recognize his surroundings. There's a small lake and trees that lead to the forest. He decides to get the hell out of this meadow and back into the environment he knows best. He follows the trees for an hour and a half when he hears the crunching the leaves behind him. Listening, he pinpoints that whatever it is that's making the noise is nearby. He stealthily climbs one of the large oaks, planning to attack from above. He settles onto a branch, hidden in the full leaves. He takes out his bow and an arrow, placing it carefully onto the string and pulls back. He recognizes the form before him, Myka comes into view. He has a long slash across his chest. _'Was there some sort of fight? Did I do it? Why can't I remember?'_ Angry, he points the arrow at Myka's chest. Just as he is about to release the bow, a shiny object distracts him, a parachute, and it lands in the branch near him. Irritated, but curious, he grabs the parachute.

Inside the canister is a note.

"Gale, the Games are in a dilemma. Myka Volkan is your half-brother. If you two are the final tributes, you'll both be crowned victors. Your mother said the proof is on your wrist. – A friend." '_What kind of sick joke is this?'_ Gale angrily crumbles the letter. He points the arrow back at Myka. Then it hits him – "the proof is on your wrist." He remembers the token his mother had given him and opens the locket. He examines the photos.

The photo on his left is clearly of himself and his family before Posy was born. He knows what his brothers look like. Then he looks at the photo on the right. The baby with the sad blue eyes and green blanket. He thought it was a photo of himself as a baby, but Gale's eyes were gray. He assumed the blue was just normal for newborns. Besides, Myka's eyes were- wait. They changed colors! And when he was sad, they changed to blue. He looks back down at the photo and gasps. It's starting to make sense- the same pouty lips, jaw line, cheekbones, everyone always make a point to point out how much they looked alike.

Myka Volkan really is his brother.

* * *

The anger, betrayal, hurt, and confusion is more than he can bare. Annie was alive. She's standing right there in front of him. But… how? No! It doesn't make sense. He saw it! He saw the building! Why would they do that? And how?

"Miss Cresta, I'm so sorry to bring you here like this. You see, the news cast had found a body in the Odair family's fishing building in District 4. They mistakenly assumed the body had belonged to you, and Mr. Odair here thought you had passed. We just wanted to show him that you were still very much alive and well is all." President Snow smirks. Annie is confused. She runs over and hugs Finnick. He's still in shock, but embraces her in his arms. _'She's really here. But who's body…? And why would they assume it was Annie's? Was all of this planned?'_

"Thank you for coming, miss Cresta." President Snow excuses her. Annie steps back from Finnick, her face in a pained expression. She wanted Finnick to come home. The guard grasps her arms and gently leads her away. Finnick can't manage to say a single word.

The doors close behind them and the room is silent. Finnick doesn't know whether he's going to scream, cry, laugh, or break something. He's never dealt with so many different feelings at once. He looks up at Snow, his sea-green eyes filled with hurt. He's starting to understand now.

"As you can see, we have a little bit of a problem on our hands. Mr. Crane and I have discussed a couple of different options, but we've decided only one would suffice. You will announce the relationship between you and Myka Volkan is a sham. And you will honor our prior agreement." President Snow sneers at Finnick, eyes like those of a snake.

"What about Myka? What will happen to him?"

"If he wins, he'll be staying in the Capitol. He cannot be allowed back in District 4 or 12." He explains. Finnick knows what this means. It means Myka will be used as a slave. He looks at Seneca, wondering if he had any part of this or whether his hands were tied in the decision. He doesn't trust him after his last few encounters. And he doesn't like the way he looks at Myka. But he saved him in the Games already and gave Finnick an out so that Myka would not have to live the lifestyle they had made for Finnick.

"And… what if… I don't do as you ask?" Finnick asks. President Snow narrows his eyes.

"Then Annie Cresta and your entire family will die."

* * *

Gale drops from the tree, landing in front of Myka. He points the arrow at the petrified tribute. "Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me?" He demands. Myka just stares at him, stunned.

"Tell you what, Gale?" Myka whispers. He doesn't want to further upset the man in front of him.

"Why didn't you tell me that we were brothers?" He yells. Myka has no idea what he's talking about.

"Wait- what?" He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Gale pulls the letter out of his pocket and tosses it towards Myka. It lands at his feet. He hesitantly bends down to pick it up, keeping eye contact with Gale. He looks down for a moment to read the letter. A moment passes and Gale cannot read Myka's face.

"Who gave this to you?" Myka asks.

"I don't know. It came with a parachute just a minute ago." Gale explains honestly.

"Maybe it's a fake? To trick us into having an alliance?" The words are strung heavy with doubt. They both know that's not true. No mentor ever hated their own tribute so much to trick them into such a livid story. Myka looks at his feet, suddenly embarrassed. "You know, I don't think a whole lot of people are going to like us much after yesterday." He says honestly.

"What do you mean? What happened yesterday?" Gale has dropped his arms down, no longer pointing the arrow at Myka.

"You, um- you…" Myka tries to find the words. "You really don't remember, do you?"

"Enlighten me." Gale says flatly. Myka shakes his head.

"It's better if you don't know."

* * *

Finnick has returned back to the mentor's building. His heart feels heavy in his chest. There were so many things to comprehend, so many feelings to be dealt with. He drags his feet into the room where Mattie is watching the screen, face void of any emotion.

"Are they alright?" Finnick asks. Mattie turns her head slowly, nodding. He takes a seat next to her, watching the screen.

_Gale rolls his eyes. "Somehow, I doubt that. And brothers don't keep secrets from each other, in case you didn't know. If we're going to try and get to the end of this, we need to work together."_

Finnick's eyes grow wide. The door swings open and Katniss storms in.

"They know! What do we do? What should I tell the Gamemakers if they come looking for you?" She shrieks. Finnick nearly falls out of his seat.

"When they come looking for _me_? _You're_ the one that told them!" Finnick shouts in disbelief. Peeta runs in and grabs onto Katniss, whose just made a move to attack Finnick.

"I'm not going down for your lies, Odair! Let me help you or face them yourself!" She shouts. Suddenly, everyone is in the room- Mattie, Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Cinna, Portia, Vernalli, Poenia, even the stylist with the teal and blonde hair. They're shouting at each other, pointing fingers, and screaming names. The fight goes on for several minutes when three guards walk in.

"Mattie Lorraine, please come with us."

* * *

**Author's note: **This series is almost at an end. There will be about five more chapters left. Until then, I am also working on a second, completely different (and much less dark) fix with more emphasis on the other characters. The OMC, Myka Volkan, will definitely be used as a character again. I may or may not write a sequel to this particular story depending on the responses. Thank you all for the private messages, reviews, and support. I appreciate it and love you all!


	31. Chapter 31

"You don't understand, Gale. I-" A canon sounds. Another tribute has just died. Realization hits him when Myka whispers, "Marigold."

"What the hell did you do to her?" Gale accusingly snarls at Myka, eyes glaring, fists balled, ready to attack.

"You've got to be kidding me! I've been here the whole time. What the hell is wrong with you?" Myka's eyes have burst into shards of yellow and gold. '_After everything that's just happened, Gale still thinks I'm a pedophile?'_

Gale advances close to Myka, their faces nearly touching. "What's wrong with me? You're the one that's been acting weird since the day I met you! You had to have done something. I can't remember anything from yesterday and you and Marigold somehow get separated? Bullshit. You did something to both of us! Maybe you were looking for me to finish the job!"

Play time is over. Myka punches Gale straight in the mouth, causing the boy with the temper to curse out loud, spitting out a glob of blood. "Would you just shut up? We were in the meadows and something happened to the both of you. She was bewitched and cut me, and then she ran off. I haven't seen her since."

"Yeah? If I was bewitched too, how come you're still alive? Marigold might not have been able to do it, but I sure as hell could!" he yells.

"Because yours was different!" Myka is yelling too.

"And what was mine?" Gale spits.

"Damn it, Gale! You kissed me!"

Suddenly, Gale grabs his bow and arrow, pointing it straight at Myka's head. He's tired of these Games and all of these ridiculous lies. He'd never kiss Myka. That kid was delusional and trying to play some kind of act. He sets the string tight between his fingers, ready to let go. There's a twinkle in the air. Another parachute lands at his feet. He doesn't want to open it, it couldn't possibly be more important than what was going on right now. But then again, the last one had shared some information that he never would have found out on his own. He keeps his eyes on Myka, unsure what to do.

"Just pick up the stupid thing. I'm not going to kill you. That bow is faster than I am anyway." Myka grunts. This was beginning to become too much.

"Stand back." Gale orders. Myka does as he's told, his arms raised to the air. Gale picks up and opens the parachute, revealing a violet flower. It looks just like the one he smelled in the meadow. He immediately reads the note.

"They're called Merveilleux's Seducteurs, made by 'Dr. Marvel' from the Capitol. – H." Gale's face turns from one of anger to confusion. He glares back at Myka, suspicious, and looks back down at the note. It's definitely from Haymitch. But if this was real, then that would mean…

"That's disgusting!" Gale scoffs. "I would never kiss you!"

* * *

Mattie Lorraine doesn't even attempt to put up a fight. She knew she'd be caught and she knew what the consequences would be. Finnick leaps from his spot and throws himself between her and the Peacekeepers. They weren't going to take her without a fight.

"Mr. Odair, move out of the way or I will be forced to shoot you." The tallest of the Peacekeepers says. Finnick shakes his head in protest, but Mattie has already accepted her fate. She places a hand on his shoulder, an attempt to let him know things will be okay.

"It's alright." She whispers into his ear, "You're all that he has. Make sure he makes it back home." She pats his shoulder, starting to walk towards the Peacekeepers. He blocks her off again.

"No! They'll kill you, Matts!" Why must everyone be taken from him?

"I'm an old woman now, Fin. I've lived my life." She cups his face into her hands. "I know how much he means to you now. Get them both out of there. And don't give up. Never give up. That's the one thing they can't take from us."

"That's enough!" The Peacekeeper says before shoving Finnick to the side and grabbing Mattie by the arm. Finnick shoves back in retaliation, ready to fight when another Peacekeeper smashes the butt of his gun against his head.

And suddenly everything goes black.

* * *

Reluctantly, Gale and Myka have come to a temporary truce. They're unsure how long they'll be able to stick together without fighting, but this was definitely the best chance they had at surviving the Games. They've made it back into the forest. Gale had helped Myka climb up one of the trees. They weren't as high as Gale was comfortable climbing, but they were at least concealed. Myka had proven to be helpful as well, using the moss from the trees to tie into warm blankets. The sky grows dark and the deceased tribute shows in the sky. It's the tribute from 9. That would mean the male from District 1, both from 2, both from 4, and both from 12 were still alive. Marigold was still out there somewhere.

"We have to find her." Myka says, staring up at the sky. Gale nods his head in agreement.

"I know. Why do you care about her so much?" he asks suddenly. This had been bothering him for some time. Myka owed it to him to explain what the hell was going on.

The memories begin to flood Myka's head; his father beating him, classmates teasing and bullying him, teachers gossiping, there really wasn't anyone who showed him any real compassion. "She showed me that there are people in this world that care." Marigold was the only person who showed him any unconditional kindness, aside from Finnick of course. His chest feels incredibly heavy. He touches the braided necklace Finnick had put around his neck as a token. He missed him so much.

* * *

No longer able to handle all the chaos going on, Finnick breaks down and cries, his face cupped in his hands. This was all a big mess. The Games were coming so close to an end. Myka is still alive, but could he keep him alive? And now he has the extra responsibility of trying to help Gale? Watching Myka on the screen touching the necklace with tears falling down his cheeks breaks his heart. He loves him, but he loved Annie too. She was still alive. He couldn't just abandon her, not after everything they've been through. And Mattie being executed on top of everything else? This was too much for one person to handle.

"Gale isn't really my cousin." Turning around, Finnick notices Katniss is in the room with him. She takes a seat on the ground next to him in front of the large screen. "Snow is making me marry Peeta, but I'm not in love with him. I mean, I love him. I just don't want to marry him. Gale loves me too. It's tearing him apart that we're getting married. You have to understand, I don't want to hurt Gale. He's my best friend. I love him too, but I don't know what that means. I don't want to marry him either. I just want to keep everyone I love alive."

Eyes puffy and red, Finnick stares at Katniss, an understanding finally breaking through between the two. "President Snow sells me… my body, that is. But I'm in love with Annie Cresta. President Snow tricked me into thinking she was dead, killed in an accident in my district. So I fell in love with Myka. I want to keep him alive, but if I manage to get him out of these Games, he and Gale will both be sold as Capitol whores as I have been. They'll be raped, beaten, and used over and over again."

"But you announced you and Myka were together! The Capitol won't buy you if they think you're in a relationship, right?"

"Today I found out that Annie is still alive. If I don't announce that we are not a couple, President Snow will kill her and my family." The words shock even Finnick as he says them. He never thought he'd tell anyone about his circumstances. Even his family back home didn't know what is going on. They have their suspicions, of course, but nothing had ever been confirmed by Finnick. It would crush them.

Katniss feels a new sympathy and understanding for the man in front of her. He's no longer the charismatic playboy she once believed, but now a broken-hearted doll, torn to millions of pieces. She hugs him, and soon they both cry as they never have before.


	32. Chapter 32

A loud rattling startles Gale and Myka, waking them from their slumber. They don't recognize the sound, it's slightly different from the cannons, but it's close. The sky is still dark; sunrise isn't due for another hour or so. It's also gotten very warm, and not just warm, but hot. The air gets thinner, more humid with the heat. Then the ground starts shaking violently. Pretty soon, they're grabbing onto the limbs of the tree, trying to hold on until it shakes so badly that Myka actually falls off, the branches smacking him on his way down. The right temple of his forehead smashes against a rock, creating a sickening gash where blood pours out over his pale skin, dripping down into his hair and over one of his closed eyes. He's unconscious.

Suddenly the ground is beginning to split open, quickly traveling in their direction. Gale climbs down the tree as fast as he can, jumping off when he's a couple feet from the ground. He races over to Myka with little time on his hands, and lifts his lifeless form over his shoulder, trying with all his might to carry him away from the splitting earth. He runs in the opposite direction of the cracking, running until it's become too difficult to breathe. The air is too thin here, and the heat is only escalading. He's near the meadow now, at the very edge of the forest. But the ground is still splitting, forcing him to run through the meadow as fast as he can.

The exhaustion threatens to take over having run several miles over countless hours. He's far enough from the splitting to take a breather, but he knows it will eventually get to them. He can't carry Myka any further. They both fall to the ground, and he's clutching his chest from the pain of not being able to breathe. He needs water, but he had to leave the backpack behind in a hurry to prevent from being swallowed up into the broken earth. A fit of coughs takes over and he crawls over to Myka, examining the wound. Myka is still out cold, the gash continuing to bleed. Gale takes off his shirt, wiping the blood from Myka's face and over the wound. He tries shaking him to wake him up.

If Myka doesn't wake up soon, he'll have to leave him. If he tries to continue carrying him in his state of exhaustion, they'll both die. The realization of the severity of their situation hits him hard and he starts to panic. "Myka! Wake up! Myka!" he shakes the pale body violently. "Wake up! I can't carry you anymore… please wake up! I can't leave you behind. We'll both die if you don't wake up!"

* * *

"They're not going to make it." Katniss whispers, mostly to herself. Finnick looks over at her. He's in another state of panic, not knowing how to save them. They know what's happening, the Gamemakers are forcing the remaining tributes to meet in the wheat field, a dangerous territory filled with mutts and other threats. The odds are terrible with four armed Careers looking for a bloodbath. Being at the cornucopia, they're at another advantage as they had less distance to travel. They're stronger, better equipped, and double in number.

Myka needs to wake up now if they're going to have even the slightest chance. It's a strange moment, all of the mentors in the same room, watching the large screen in front of them. Though Gale and Myka were not from their district, most of the mentors can't help but softly weep. They know these two are doomed, and it's unfair what situation they're in. Calmness finally overtakes Finnick. He holds onto Katniss' hand and looks her straight in the eye. He knows what to do. "We need to let them die."

"What? What are you saying? That's Gale and Myka in there!" she screeches. It's unbelievable. How can he even say such a thing?

"They're doomed either way. If they manage to come out, they'll wish they had died in there. Katniss, this is the best gift we can give them. At least it will be quick, and it won't be due to the hands of the Careers. We have to set them free." His voice is so soft, so genuine. He's obviously gone mad. The other mentors watch, silent in the distance. They expect Katniss to scream, slap him, try and get him out of the crazy state he's in. But she's quiet.

"You're right," she finally says. "You're right. We need to let them go." The room is eerily silent; no one can believe what they are hearing. No mentor has ever purposely killed their tributes. These boys were not their own tributes, and even they had a problem with this decision. The looks of betrayal and disgust fill their faces, wondering if there's anything they can do to stop this madness.

"Are you two barking mad?" An unbelieving Peeta screams. "You don't get to make that decision for them! They want to live and who the hell are you to take that from them?" Furious, Peeta runs over to the control station by Haymitch. "Move!"

* * *

Gale has given up trying to wake Myka. It's useless.

"I'm so sorry." It's the first time Gale has ever cried, his face void of any emotion, but tears stream down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, that I didn't know you. And I'm sorry for all the hurtful things I said to you." There's a long pause, a moment of thought while he gently caresses Myka's dark, black hair. "I'm not leaving you. You need to know that not everyone has given up on you, and you need to know that I'm going to stick by your side until the end. I'm ready to die with you, brother."

Noticing the silver locket on his wrist, he unlatches it free and opens it, placing the photos on Myka's chest beneath his fingertips. He lay down next to him, wrapping an arm around his torso and placing his cheek onto his. The ground is shaking violently again, the rattling noise coming closer. You can hear the crash of elements as the ground splits. Even the air is getting hot and thin again. Having accepted his fate, he whispers into Myka's ear, "I love you."


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's note: Because you asked and because I love you all. Sorry the last chapter didn't come out sooner. I had this whole story mapped out how I wanted it to go, then changed my mind and had a major writer's block. Thank you for sticking around and continuing to read and review. I appreciate it more than you guys can know! You're the ones that break me out of my blocks and want to continue this. You all rock!**

* * *

A soft jingle sounds in the air, a bright light heading in their direction. Gale must be hallucinating. That, or they were already dead and this was how they crossed. The light comes closer and closer, the jingling becoming louder. A silver parachute lands at their feet. Weak from the heat, Gale forces his body up, reaching for the small parachute. It's from a sponsor! He opens the canister to find a small scroll and a syringe inside. He takes out the needle, wondering if it was meant for him. Maybe it would put him to sleep so that he wouldn't be able to see, hear, or feel the death that was about to happen. Opening the scroll, he reads the note. "Stab this into his heart as hard as you can. You have to break through the ribcage. Hurry! – Peeta"

So it wasn't to help him fall asleep or aid him to a more comfortable death. Bummer. He bites down on the cap, pulling the syringe free from its case and hovers over Myka. He's not sure he can do this. What will this shot do to him? Why is it coming from Peeta above all people? The rattling gets louder, the shaking more violent. There's no more time. Deciding there's nothing left to lose he swings his arm down, forcing the syringe needle to break through Myka's ribcage and into his heart with a crack. Myka immediately comes to; yellow and green eyes wide, mouth agape and he gasps in an audible breath as he involuntarily lifts himself into a sitting position, clutching his chest. He looks down and sees the needle sticking out of his chest and is suddenly aware of his surroundings. He pulls the syringe out with shaky hands, looking at Gale who's nearly passed out from the exhaustion and heat, having used his last bit of energy to revive Myka.

He doesn't need any sort of explanation and grabs Gale, lifting him from the ground and in turn carrying him while he runs away from the splitting earth. There's no time to think, but he understands what's happening. He races deeper into the meadow, trying with all his might to avoid suspicious plants. Hours pass before he finds himself at the entrance of the wheat field. He hesitates, remembering how they found the male tribute's body mutilated and torn to pieces here. But they have no choice. He pushes through the field trying to quickly and quietly find some place safe enough to stop. Suspecting they were now a couple miles in, he notices the wheat has suddenly disappeared, replaced by strange plants and lush green shrubs.

This place is dangerous. When they reach a patch of dirt, Myka stops and places Gale down. They both observe their surroundings. This was like the forest, but it definitely wasn't a forest. The weather is much more humid, warmer, and none of the plants are familiar in the least bit.

"A jungle…" Gale whispers. "I've read about them in books."

A bit more relaxed, Myka suspects they might be able to get through this jungle alive with Gale's knowledge. He can only hope Gale is as skillful and knowledgeable in this sort of setting as he had been in the forest. He looks down at Gale, lips cracked and dry, still weak from the heat. "We need to find your some water."

Nodding, Gale grabs the hand Myka has extended in his direction, pulling him up from the ground. They walk deeper into the jungle, searching for signs of life or water. It proves to be an incredibly difficult task. Everything is green and there are sounds from unknown animals in every direction.

"Help! Please!" a small voice screams; it's female… and young.

It's Marigold.

* * *

Finnick doesn't know what to do. He needs guidance from Mattie, unable to handle this on his own. Everyone knows this. A couple of mentors went as far as to share what had happened only hours ago to the Head Gamemaker, expressing their concerns for how fair these Games really are now that Mattie is no longer a mentor.

Seneca Crane is infuriated. He expected Finnick to help Myka win these Games. If he wasn't going to bother, all his efforts to keep him alive were useless. No matter how easy he made it in the Games for Myka, he still depended on sponsors and receiving those gifts. Excusing himself from the Gameroom, he enters a private office and dials a number. "Yes, bring me Annie Cresta please."

Annie is escorted to the office where Seneca is already waiting for her patiently, sitting on a soft cushioned maroon chair. When she is escorted inside, he ushers to the twin chair across from him. She takes a seat, eyes wandering around the room. She doesn't want to be here, but it's not the worse place she's been. She is, however, curious as to why they wanted her here in the first place.

"Miss Cresta, I'm so sorry to bring you here like this. I'm afraid I need your help." His voice is soft and smooth, but Annie does not trust him. Why would he need her help? She was useless, mad. "It's about Mr. Finnick Odair." At this, her green eyes widen, looking straight at Seneca, her hands clutching the cushions. "You see, his partner mentor has been terminated from her services, but it seems Mr. Odair is unable to effectively assist his tributes. Several other mentors have come to me to share that he refuses to help them all, hoping for their deaths. Now, I realize that the lives of our victors are not as… glamorous as believed, but it seems awfully unfair to force these kids to their demise without a chance. Where do you stand on this argument?"

Was he really asking for her opinion? "Finnick wouldn't do that."

"No? Would you like to discuss it with him? I'm afraid you may have several things to talk about. Especially concerning his relationship with his tribute Myka Volkan. Would you like to speak with him?" the question is not cold, but it still manages to prick her heart. She knew something was going on between the two of them. Maybe Finnick really was trying to have him killed in the Games. She nods her head slowly, deciding she does need to talk to him about this. Seneca curtly nods his head, picking up the phone next to him and dialing another number. "Please bring Mr. Finnick Odair to my office. Thank you."

Nervous and unsure, Annie combs her fingers through her shiny brown hair. She doesn't want to be here, but she'll be able to see Finnick again and that's all she needs right now. She avoids looking in Seneca's direction, forcing her eyes to the ground while she continues to thread her hair. A few minutes pass and there's a knock at the door. Finnick enters the room, a look of despair and hallow taking over his features until he spots Annie in the room. Seneca stands from his seat. "I will leave you two alone."

When he leaves the room, Annie stands from her seat and waits. Finnick stares at her for a moment before running to her and holding her. He kisses the top of her head, rubs her hair and back. It feels so amazing to have her back in his arms again.

"Is it true?" she whispers.

"Is what true, my love?" he asks. She smells like perfection.

"Have you really given up on your tributes?" Her arms begin to shake. She knows the answer.

"It's much more complicated than that, Annie." He says sadly. Annie drops her arms from around him. She's disappointed in him.

She looks at the floor. "What if it had been me?"

"But it's not you." Finnick states flatly.

"But you love him like you love me." It's not a question, she could see it in their eyes during the interviews, the way they kissed and gazed at one another. She knew because they shared the same look.

The anxiety creeps back in Finnick's throat. Those bastards! "Annie, please- I thought they took you away from me." He holds onto her arms, forcing her to look up at him. "I love you, Annie Cresta. Nothing will ever change that." He is sincere, and she knows what he is saying is true. Finnick has come to realize he cannot save Myka, even if he makes it out of the Games. He still had Annie and his family to think about. He couldn't have them killed for his selfish desire to keep Myka to himself.

He knows what he'll have to do.


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's note: So glad you guys are enjoying this! My heart nearly stopped when I realized how many reviews there were. Thank you! Just a note in response to the comments to update more frequently, I always try to update each story at least once every 4-7 days. This is one of two stories that I'm working on (the other is titled Venica Falls High School, in case you might be interested), and I don't like to publish work without sitting on it for a day or two to be sure I'm happy with the results. [I have actually changed my mind a couple of times, rewriting different sections or plots.] I apologize if the updates are not frequent enough, but it's the best I can manage for now! I hope I can continue to keep you all happy and wanting more. ;) Love you all! You're absolutely amazing!**

* * *

A final rush of adrenaline courses through their veins as they race towards the cry for help. They jump over tree trunks, run through thick and exotic plants, deeper into the jungle where the dirt is moist and thick. When they reach the sound of her screaming, they spot the Careers with Marigold in Cato's hands. Realizing they were outnumbered and without weapons, they freeze in place, not knowing what to do.

"Let her go." Myka says, looking straight at the strong leader across from him. They're not close enough for the Careers to injure, but they're also not far enough to run away before the much more energized tributes can reach them.

"What's that, little mermaid? You want me to let her go?" Cato mocks, making Myka shake in fury. His eyes have turned into the bright wolf-like yellow, staring at Cato's blue ones, his animal instincts having kicked in. He doesn't say anything, refusing to give Cato and his group the satisfaction. "Let's make a deal- I'll let your friend here 'go' if you give yourself up willingly. I learned about your little deal. If you and another remaining tribute survive the Games, both are named victors. I think I'll keep you as a pet," Cato smirks.

Shit.

"He's not going with you." Gale is glaring at the group across from them. The Careers snicker at them, knowing the odds were not in their favor. Somebody would have to give, whether it is to surrender or be killed.

"Okay." Myka says softly. Gale's head snaps in his direction, stunned. He's about to protest when Myka continues. "I'll go with you _if_ you let Marigold go, and you'll let Gale leave alive and unharmed."

Gale can't believe it. "Are you crazy? I'm not going to leave y-"

"Deal," Cato interrupts, loving every moment. He was going to enjoy torturing the tribute that put him through so much hell. He keeps a strong hold on Marigold's arm, walking around a pit of wet dirt halfway to meet his prize.

Myka begins to walk towards Cato when Gale grabs his wrist, pulling him back. "You can't." he says simply. Myka kisses his cheek, rubbing his arm as a means of calming him down.

He whispers, "You can get me when you guys are safe, fed, and have a weapon on hand. None of us will make it out alive otherwise." It's a hard truth to accept, but Gale eventually lets his wrist go, staring at the ground in defeat. Myka takes careful, slow steps to Cato. When he's about five feet away, he stops.

"You have me, now let her go." Myka pleads. Cato smirks at him.

"A deal's a deal, but you know… you should really choose a better choice of words." And with that, he throws Marigold into the pit of wet dirt. It swallows her and soon she's screaming, quickly disappearing into the quicksand. Cato tricked them all. Myka moves forward to get her, but Cato blocks his path with his sword. Gale makes a move to reach her, but he can't pull her out of the quicksand. She screams and cries; only her hands and head are above the soft mud. Pulling her arm as hard as he can, Gale realizes it's no use. Soon the screaming stops, her face fully submerged into the quicksand, only her hands sticking out. He screams in frustration, Myka in sorrow. Marigold didn't deserve to die.

Soon her body disappears into the sand and a canon fires. The Careers are laughing in pleasure. "I'd get running if I were you." Cato says to Gale.

"You said you'd let him go alive and unharmed!" Myka yells in panic. There's no way Gale can get away from Cato if he decides to kill him.

"You're right. I'm keeping my word; _I'm_ not going to kill him… they are." He points to the other Careers, laughing at his expense.

"Gale, run!" Myka screams. Gale hesitates, but when he sees the group of Careers begin to chase after him, he runs in the opposite direction, deep into the jungle.

* * *

The anger Finnick feels is more than he can comprehend. Trudging over to Brutus, Cato's mentor, he swings a closed fist into the bulky man's jaw. In any other circumstance, Finnick would never have gotten involved, doing his best to mind his own business and focus on his own tributes. But this time was different. Brutus had put Myka in worse danger. As if the Games were not dangerous enough, Finnick now had to worry about Cato and Myka being the last survivors, knowing that Cato would probably break every bone in Myka's body for the sole purpose of boredom or anger. The possibilities were driving him mad. If Myka and Gale win, they both become sex slaves to the Capitol; if Myka and Cato win, Myka becomes Cato's personal punching bag and slave in District 2. Myka's best option is to die in the arena, but Annie would never forgive him if that happened. She would know if he didn't try his best to keep him alive.

There was no fairness in these Games.

Then the fighting starts. Brutus tackles Finnick to the ground and soon they are both throwing fists at each other, the blood sprinkling in every direction. A couple of mentors try to stop the fight, most are too scared to get involved. The fighting between these two was just like being in the Games all over again. It takes six mentors to separate the two fighting bodies, both struggling against the holds they are in.

"You bastard!" Finnick shouts. "He's my tribute! Who the hell are you to get involved like that? We were told not to mention anything to them! You went against the rules!"

"I did no such thing." Brutus spits in disgust. "That agreement was terminated the second your partner decided to tell that kid from 12. You should be thanking me. At least now your tribute stands a chance. But then… this isn't about that, is it? After all, you were willing to kill your own tribute just hours ago!"

"I was wrong. I should have been focusing on killing you!" Finnick pulls against the mentors restraining him, reaching towards Brutus. He might actually kill the man if he gets the chance.

"Well that's good news since you suck at it!" Brutus sneers. Who was Finnick trying to fool anyway? As far as he's concerned, Finnick got lucky and only won because he was an attractive boy and cheated his way through the Games, using a net to trap the remaining tributes and killing them with a trident. Brutus didn't need all of that in his year, he had successfully killed his opponents in combat, a more glorious and manly way to end things. He was the real victor.

A team of guards let themselves into the room, pointing their guns at random individuals until they step back, arms in the air to show they were not involved in the fighting. Brutus and Finnick freeze in place, knowing that these guards will not hesitate in shooting them if provoked.

* * *

If there were such thing as hell, Gale was living in it. Exhausted, tired, thirsty he keeps running deep into the jungle. He's literally heaving for air, his lungs unable to take in enough oxygen. His vision begins to blur, his head starts to spin and ache, and his legs are quickly turning into jelly, twitching and buckling beneath him. He can hear the Careers not too far away, but he's unable to move any further. He starts to climb a tree, hoping to get high enough to hide from them, but he doesn't have the energy. Grabbing onto a branch above him, it snaps and he falls to the ground, completely knocked out. A gathering of leaves, branches, and vines cover his body as he lays unconscious.

The Careers look around the jungle, but Gale is nowhere in sight. They take off running back towards Cato and Myka having given up on their quest to find him. Besides, there were four of them and only one of him, making him an easy kill. The Gamemakers will probably force them all together again soon anyway.


	35. Chapter 35

"Well?" The impatience is evident in his tongue, wanting to know why he hadn't heard the sound of the cannon. Gale was still out there alive, and he wanted to know why his fellow Careers hadn't finished the job. Didn't they realize how close they were to the end of these Games?

"He got away." The girl from his district, Clove, says. "We lost him in the jungle."

Cato rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed by their incompetence. "Whatever, we'll get him soon enough. Someone build a fire."

The group departs, gathering supplies for a fire, but making sure they don't stray too far from one another in case Gale got his hands on another set of bow and arrows. Myka has found himself tied up yet again, his arms tied behind his back and his legs joined together. He struggled against the bonds, willing himself to be free of the rope, but it was no use. Cato wouldn't let him escape a second time around.

When the sky begins to grow darker, a fire is lit, keeping the group warm. A picture of Marigold glows in the sky, announcing her death. Myka saddens at the memory, replaying the events in his head, watching her die over and over again, not being able to do anything about it or save her. He'd failed her. If there was anyone he wanted to win these Games, it was her. She was so sweet, so kind. She'd showed him that there was more to the world than the cruelty he'd experienced his whole life. His light blue eyes soak, the water trailing down his puffy, red cheeks. If he could change the events that had happened only hours ago, he would have.

He's jolted out of his thoughts when Cato grabs him by the arm, hustling him up to his feet and dragging him to the group by the fire. Clove opens a backpack and reaches her hand inside to fetch fruit and meat for each of them, passing it to Porpoise on her left, whom passes it to her left and so on. Cato unties the bonds that are constricting Myka's hands then forces him into a sitting position next to him. He sets the food on his lap. "Eat," he says.

"I'm not hungry." Myka mumbles. He won't accept anything from these people, especially not on command.

But Cato won't have it. "I don't care. Eat."

Myka doesn't budge, refusing to obey his demands. Porpoise wants to see him punished and tortured, so she says, "He told you to eat."

Realizing that Myka was still refusing, Cato's irritation begins to stir again. He begins to lean towards Myka when he suddenly has an idea. "Why are you getting involved? If I live, it means you'll die. The rule was if the last two remaining tributes have someone from District 4 or 12, then there would be two victors. You're from 4. You can be crowned victor with another tribute, so why would you want me to live? You'd only be screwing yourself over."

The light bulb finally turns on and Porpoise understands what Myka is saying is true. If Cato's intentions are to keep him alive, it means he plans on having her killed. She looks at Cato, a look of horror on her face. "You'd kill me?"

"C'mon, we all knew how this was going to end. We kill all the weak ones and then we split from each other and continue the Games as it was meant to be played. You didn't believe this alliance was a permanent thing, did you?" Cato asks, amused.

Porpoise's voice is caught in her throat. She knew this was a fight to the death, but she had secretly believed that Cato would want to be crowned victor with her. She'd already given herself to him, sealed the deal. Why wouldn't he want her anyway? It's like her fellow district tribute was wanted by everyone, and it wasn't fair! She stands from the fire, stomping away towards her tent. The fury she feels has only begun. Cato just laughs at her performance, not really caring how she felt. The only tribute he really gave a damn about was Clove, and they'd made a pact to kill the other Careers before it came down to them fighting, the chances of both surviving less likely.

Everyone finishes eating and make their way to their separate tents. Cato pulls Myka up to his feet again, orders him to turn around. To his pleasant surprise, Myka obeys, letting Cato tie his hands together again. "C'mon." he says, ushering towards the large tent. Myka gives him a quizzical look before looking down at his bound feet, wondering how on earth he was supposed to walk. Finally understanding the problem, Cato effortlessly tosses the brunette over his shoulders and carries him to the tent. Letting them both inside, he hurls the bound teenager to the ground, his back hitting the floor with a loud thud and grunt. Myka begins to wonder why the vicious tribute hadn't tortured him yet.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks. Cato raises his eyebrows in amusement before taking off his shirt and lying down next to Myka. The question was a bit amusing. He thought it was pretty obvious by now.

"You made a fool of me." He says simply.

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion he replies, "You could have just killed me. Why go through the trouble of having us both win?"

"That would have been too easy. Shut up and go to sleep." Cato scoffs before wrapping an arm around his prize. Myka shakes off the contact, not wanting to be touched. The stronger tribute tightens his hold around him, shaking him in warning, but the adolescent is tired of this game. He shifts violently, refusing to submit. Cato growls in frustration, deciding to teach the lesser District tribute his place. He squeezes Myka's entwined fingers together, breaking several of them in the process and forcing a cry of pain to escape his lips. Just to really make the point, he twists his hands into a complete 180, breaking one of his wrists.

"Stop! Please, Cato." Myka whines.

The mention of his name catches him off guard. He wraps his arm around Myka's torso again, making himself comfortable. "Go to sleep, pet."

* * *

Katniss and Finnick have separated themselves from the rest of mentors and stylists, wanting to get as far from them as possible. Katniss had mentioned the peacefulness of the rooftop, so they had decided to make themselves comfortable in the cold air. They watch the city below them, people cheering to the night, drunk with pleasure. Nobody else could understand. They didn't comprehend the pain these two were feeling, how they knew Gale and Myka would be better off dead. You'd think. Being victors themselves and having to deal with the constant pain and heartache they were put through, that they'd understand why these mentors wanted their tributes, the people they love and care about, to die in the arena. But they don't.

"What do you think they would have wanted?" Katniss asks, breaking the dark silence. Finnick shrugs his shoulders, not really knowing the answer himself. In the Games, Myka and Gale were fighting so hard to stay alive, to keep each other alive, but would the circumstances be different if they knew what kind of lives they'd have to live once they won? Would they want to continue fighting, or would they simply give up? Finnick and Katniss just wanted the best for them.

"I don't know." Finnick finally admits softly. He wanted Myka so badly, but there was still so much to think about. And he had Annie back now. He couldn't just abandon the love of his life for someone he'd only begun to feel something for. It was cruel. But he did still love Myka, and he wanted to have him for himself. He just didn't know what that meant. He owed Annie the world, wanted to start a family with her. He couldn't do that with Myka. "I feel so lost, Katniss."

"I know. I feel lost, too. I just want to keep Gale happy. He won't be happy if he comes back home." She holds his hand, looking at his beautiful, sad green eyes. "You were right, you know… about letting them die in the arena. I wish Peeta could see it as clearly as we do. They don't understand what it would mean to have them crowned."

Finnick holds Katniss' hand tighter in support, understanding her words perfectly. A shadow casts over their seated figures, startling them. "They weren't happy before, so why should it matter if they're happy after they win?" A drunken Haymitch slurs through gritted teeth. He'd managed to stay sober until today, seeing how doomed his tribute was. He couldn't control it anymore, couldn't help. Gale was losing quickly, the only tribute he really gave a damn about.

"You don't understand." Katniss sighs, turning her face back into the city.

"Is that so, sweetheart? Your boyfriend may not want the lifestyle that's been set for him, but I understand him better than you can, and I know he'd want to keep fighting." He sloshes his drink in Finnick's direction, "As for _you_- I don't know Myka very well, but anyone can see clear as day that he wants to come back home to you. I can't imagine how he'll be feeling when he finds out that you tried to kill him. He'll never forgive you. You gave up on him."

Finnick feels the anger boiling over, standing from his seat and approaching Haymitch. "I didn't give up on him!"

Haymitch laughs, this little playboy had no idea what he was doing. "If you hadn't given up on him you'd get off your ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You'd bring them both back. But I can see your… feelings matter more than his, so please- continue to swallow in your pity." He bows and exits through the door back into the building, leaving Finnick and Katniss more confused than ever before.

* * *

**Author's note: My internet connection doesn't allow me on very often or for very long, so I apologize for any delays. I have a couple chapters for this story ready, but can't post them right away. I'll try again tomorrow or the day after. Just know that an update will come sooner! Also, I just wanted to give a huge thanks to Seeing Sasha, RueEvergreen, and YoungArtist77 [you've been one of my favorite writers I've ever had the pleasure of finding on FF. So thank you and I can't wait to see what you have coming! I'm especially addicted to your russian mafia story. ;)] for sticking around for practically every single chapter. You three, in particular, are the ones I think of when I write this series. Thanks so much, and I can't even begin to describe my love for you!**


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's note:**

**Seeing Sasha - We'll see what happens with Finnick and Myka soon! Dun dun dunnnn!**

**RueEvergreen - Thank you! And I'm glad it made sense eventually. I always worry about some part of the story not making sense.**

**Guest - And it's here! Next one will be within a day or two!**

**loveyourstories - Thank you! Yes, I'm going to try to update this particular story much sooner since the chapters are all already written out. It all just depends on my internet access!**

**YoungArtist77 - Yes! And Haymitch does strike me as someone who might do something like that! Ha! Oh, and I laughed so hard at the Gaymitch comment. Brilliant! As for the Cato thing, nothing is wrong with that. I am a hardcore sad/maso lemons fan, so not a whole lot can shock me with that. :P Gah! I'm so excited for your updates! I didn't realize but I'm also watching Ad Hominem. I was super stoked to see Where the Sun Sets Early had been updated! Yayayayayay! -happy dance-**

** .54 - Thank you! And I am sorry to use old characters. This was my very first fanfic and I confused myself by making Katniss and Peeta win the 73rd year instead of the 74th, so I thought it was more appropriate to reuse the characters. By the time I realized how redundant it was, it was already too late. -sigh- And the story ends in about 4 chapters. We're almost at the end!**

**more chapters - Coming right up!**

* * *

Gale awakes to the sound of another chime. It's dark, but warm out here. The parachute lands in a patch of long grass about seven feet from him. He opens the large canister to find an assortment of sharp blades inside. He reads the small scroll. "Remember how you got here. - H" But did he… training day! He could still win this thing. He just needed to use his best skills, trap the Careers and even the odds. The ideas explode in his head like fireworks, and he hastily gets started to work, grabbing vines, plants, anything he can get his hands on to make this work.

Looking over his shoulder, he can see where the Careers have set their fire. That's the direction he wants to be in, knowing they won't venture too far from their campsite into unfamiliar territory.

* * *

Cato stirs from his sleep, still clutching onto his prize, the morning sun just beginning to light the sky. He tightens his hold, resulting in Myka letting out a strained hiss. He's in so much pain right now. Between the broken wrist, fingers, and inability to move his legs or arms in their harsh bonds, his limbs have become very tender and sore. He couldn't even manage to close his eyes last night. Seeing the pained looked on his pet's face, Cato feels something strange stir inside him. He thought he'd be happy to see Myka's red, puffy eyes in tears, blue and green eyes hallow and empty, but it just makes him uncomfortable.

He doesn't like the feeling, and so he tries to focus on something else. The brunette beneath him gasps aloud when he tightens his hold around his stomach, accidently crushing his hands even further. Myka chokes back a sob, trying to focus on anything but the pain.

"Be quiet." Cato puffs, snaking his hands around Myka's stomach. His fingertips make small circles on the pale flesh, creating an almost comfortable tickling sensation. They dip into Myka's belly button before working their way up underneath his shirt to his hardening nipples. He pinches them and begins to suck on his neck, making the brunette beneath him squirm. Though he'd never admit it, Cato's touches feel good. The fingers on his nipples pinch harder, then the top hand travels down between his legs. Cato thrusts his pelvis into Myka's backside as he continues to pinch his nipple, kiss his neck, and rub his most private body part.

The tent begins to grow hotter, making the two bodies inside sweat. Cato momentarily stops his rubbing only to pull Myka's pants down to his thighs. He slides his hand underneath the undergarment and begins pumping again, making Myka whine at the unwanted contact. "Stop. Please, Cato. Just stop."

Hearing his name makes him incredibly uncomfortable again. He squeezes Myka's member with bruising force, causing him to cry out. "I said be quiet." He growls.

"Cato…" he pleads, earning a fist to the side of his face. He whimpers in pain. Satisfied, Cato gets back to work, unbuckling his pants until Porpoise walks in.

"What the hell?" she screeches. She and Cato had just slept together last night and now he was sleeping with the enemy?

"Get out." Cato growls. He's growing more frustrated by the second. She struts over to him, defying his orders, and slaps him across the face. Myka holds back a chuckle, amused. Cato, on the other hand, looks as if he's going to kill both of them. They both fear the worse, and then he suddenly calms down completely. "What is it, Porpoise?"

"You need to kill him right now! You said _we_ were going to win this thing together, and we can't do that if he's alive! Only one tribute from 4 can win. Kill him, Cato. Kill him now!" she screams.

"You're right, Porpoise. Come here." He says; his arms spread open for her. She grins, having won, and plants herself into his arms.

"Oh, Cato, I knew you'd-" but before she can finish, her throat is slashed. She looks up at him in horror as she realizes he had just cut her. He smiles sheepishly at her.

"And I choose 4's male tribute."

And the canon fires.

* * *

"We need to talk." An irritated Finnick addresses the scruffy man sitting in front of the large screen, watching his tribute build numerous traps.

"Is that so?" Haymitch says, not even bothering to look away from the screen. He's not really interested in what Finnick has to say.

"Why are you trying so hard to keep them alive? It's not your call. And you should know better. You're a victor, too." Finnick scrunches his eyebrows, taking a seat next to the older man. Haymitch doesn't stir, doesn't look away from the screen once. Finnick watches his eyes, nearly glossed over as he stares into the screen. But the glossiness isn't from his drinking, the look is something else completely, something more… what is it, exactly? "Do… do you love him?"

At this, Haymitch finally looks away from the screen and stares daggers at the young playboy. "Gale reminds me of myself when I was his age. He's a smart kid."

"So you do love him." Finnick states flatly.

"You claim to love Myka, but you want him dead. You gave up on him." He pauses. "No, I don't love Gale. At least not the way you think you love Myka or Annie. By the way, what _are_ you going to do if he makes it out of the arena alive? Looks like Cato has every intention of winning this thing with him."

The comment hits a nerve. "Cato isn't going to win this."

"Of course he won't. Gale is going to kill him and the rest of the Careers." Haymitch smirks. He still had high hopes for his tribute. Gale had the wits and skill to do it. "But what are _you_ going to do when he brings Myka home?"

Suddenly Finnick's world has stopped completely. His green eyes look straight into Haymitch's blue ones, the uncertainty finally showing. "I don't know," he whispers. "You don't understand Haymitch. I do love him, but what can I do for him if he comes back? Snow won't let him come back home with me or Gale. They have every intention of keeping him in the Capitol. You and I and the rest of the victors know what it means when we're here, but we get to go back home and forget about everything for a little while. We have something to hang on to. Myka won't have that. He'll know nothing but the nightmares that we fear with our very lives, the ones we get to eventually wake from. Don't you get it? He won't be as lucky as us. He'll be trapped there forever and never wake from those nightmares. He's already dead, Haymitch!"

The older man watches Finnick closely. He was beginning to understand why Finnick didn't want him to come home. There was no home for the tribute to come back to, just more pain and suffering. But that still wasn't their choice; it was his and his alone. "Stop that. Look at him. Look at him!" he yells. Finnick forces himself to glance at the screen, watching Myka alone and bound in the tent. Cato had gone outside to talk to the other Careers, leaving him alone with Porpoise's body. The young tribute crawls over to the body of his fellow district member, using his teeth to lift the oversized brown shirt she'd been using as a nightgown to reveal a knife strapped to her thigh. He'd made a calculated guess she'd have it on her from the day of training evaluations.

With his hands tied up and broken, they're useless, so he scoots himself higher to use his feet. He slips the end of the knife between his toes and pulls it from the strap, propping it beneath her thigh as leverage so he can start cutting the rope away. He moves his bunched feet over the knife back and forth until it finally cuts free. He's able to move his body around much more, using his legs to scoot himself lower so that the knife would be aimed at the rope around his hands. The unbroken fingers touch around, feeling for the knife and finally he moves his arms up and down, cutting the rope. He cuts feverishly until it snaps and he can move his arms. It feels amazing. He lets out a breath of relief and stands from the ground, peaking through the tent to see where Cato and the rest of the Careers are.

"He wants to live." Finnick finally begins to realize what Haymitch had been telling him all along.

"Exactly. We don't know what is going to happen when he comes back, but we do know he wants to stay alive right now. Don't worry about later, worry about what's happening in this very moment." Haymitch says, watching Finnick's reaction.

The auburn haired man begins to shake and finally he breaks down and cries.


	37. Chapter 37

Taking his cue, Myka runs as fast as his legs will allow towards the jungle and away from the camp. Just as he's about to race through a set of trees, he's tackled to the ground. They both fall to the hard earth with a loud thud.

Furious, Cato grabs Myka by his black hair and lifts him to his knees. "Damn it! I knew you'd try to run! Stop running! You'll never get away. I won't allow it."

Grunting and tugging at the hand in his hair with his own weak and broken hands, Myka is starting to lose hope very quickly. Every movement he makes hurts, but he can't give in. "If you win and somehow manage to take me with you, I will always try to get away. If you want me to stop, you'd better kill me now."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'll let you in on a little secret, pet." Cato crouches down and stares into Myka's yellow wolf-like eyes. "Where I'm from, power is everything. We kill the weak because they don't contribute to anything we stand for. The warriors are the ones that live, the ones that eat, the ones that mate. I've never been defeated, ever. You are the only one that has ever made a fool of me, and I can see your strength. You're just like me, you're a warrior. Out of respect, I can't just kill you. But I can't let you be better than me either. You keep me on my toes and make me even better and stronger with every attempt of retaliation or escape you make. I keep you alive because killing you is an insult to both our abilities. You're mine now, and one day you'll understand that we are undefeated and there's no stopping us. Soon, you'll see that you were made for me."

Filled with hatred and disgust, Myka spits in his eye. Cato touches the saliva, looks down at his fingers. He twirls it around his fingertips. "You see, this is exactly what I mean. Who else would have had the courage to do something so stupid?" His fist collides with Myka's head, knocking him over. His eyes roll in the back of his head, everything blurs and twirls. "Let's go, pet." Cato grabs him by the arm and hoists him to his feet, then tosses is body over his shoulder, carrying back to camp.

"Better watch out, Cato." Clove smirks. "This one might kill you in your sleep if you're not careful."

Cato begins to laugh when the group hears a cry for help. It's Gale.

"Ha, the moron is in trouble. Go kill him while I tie this one up." Cato orders. This was too easy, the last of his competition trapping himself and making for an easy kill.

Clove and the male tribute from District 1 follow the screams in the jungle, looking for Gale. It doesn't take long to spot him. He's hanging upside down in a tree from a vine. They both laugh and grin at the display, watching as he helplessly struggles to get loose. "You know, it's a shame really," Clove says, "I was kinda hoping for a little more competition, but you're just a sitting duck. Oh well. You're dead either way, right?"

They both walk towards him, weapons ready, when a long vine drags upwards, blades carefully tied along the trailing plant. The blades drag across Clove, cutting her body into a mangled mess. Shocked and horrified, the male tribute from District 1 stops dead in his tracks, eyes bulging wide and mouth agape. The canon fires, and he breaks from his trance. Gale isn't in the tree anymore, but standing just ten feet in front of him.

"Hear that, pet? Your little friend is dead. Now you can accept that you've got a new home and that you'll be staying with me from now on." He smirks at Myka, eyes blue with sadness, believing Gale was really dead.

"He was my brother." The brunette says, tears traveling down his cheeks. The uneasiness returns to the pit of Cato's stomach, making him uncomfortable again.

"You'll forget about him. You can be happy in District 2 with me, if you obey." Cato says softly. But the grief overwhelms Myka and he finds himself feeling empty. Seeing the hurt in his new partner, Cato crouches down in front of him and softly caresses the side of his face. The gesture reminds Myka of his father back in District 4 and memories of being beaten flood his mind. That life was the only one he knew… until he met Finnick. There was still someone that loved him, someone that could give him a different life than the one that hindered and hurt him. Cato leans in and kisses him on the lips. Myka would give in to him soon.

Another canon fires and the two tributes stare at one another in shock. There was still a possibility of Gale being alive! He could have killed the Careers!

But in Cato's mind, it doesn't make any sense. Gale couldn't be a threat now! He was trapped or hurt, in some sort of trouble when they went looking for him in the jungle. Maybe they killed him and decided to break the alliance, turning on each other. Of course, that meant that whoever was coming back would try to kill them. Cato shoves him to the ground, drawing his sword as he waits for the final tribute to show himself. Minute pass before the tribute comes out of the jungle into plain view- and it's Gale.

The world watches as the final match has come. It's down to three tributes now. Hazelle Hawthorne has passed out from the shock, unable to take anymore. Both of her sons might come out of this alive, but Gale doesn't have any useful weapons for combat! The anticipation was too much.

Katniss and Finnick hold hands, eyes glued to the screen. They're both breathing heavily, wanting this to finally be over. Cato is ready for battle, sword in hand and ready to fight. Haymitch smiles, his very last sponsor paying a fortune for the very last gift his tribute would receive… it's a sword. The weapon soars through the air and lands at his feet. Gale and Myka had received more gifts from sponsors than any other tribute in history. He picks up the sword and hesitantly steps forward. He's never used a sword before.

Cato launches to him, swinging with so much force, just watching him is intimidating. Gale uses his quick reflexes, dodging the swings and blocking strikes. Metal collides with metal as they continue to spar. The battle goes well until Gale makes a single mistake… he doesn't understand the foot work that comes with sword fighting. Cato takes advantage of his miscalculated step, stepping in and elbowing Gale in the jaw. He falls backward and Cato slashes him in the leg with his sword. It's over. The wound is so deep that Gale cannot stand anymore. Cato kicks the sword away from Gale's helpless form, laughing menacingly. Did he really believe he was going to win a spar against Cato? The idea is both unbelievable and hilarious!

"Cato!" Myka yells. He wraps his arms around Cato, who shoves him back into the ground. Myka lands on his broken wrist, crying out in pain. It startles Cato for a moment, looking away from Gale and at the prize he manages to keep breaking. Myka clutches his injured hand in his good one against his chest, eyes watering with blue and yellow. The strong, blonde tribute leans down over him, rubbing his thumb over Myka's cheek. Myka places his hand over Cato's in a loving gesture. "Cato," he whispers. He places a soft kiss on his lips. "Do you know what your problem is?"

Confused, Cato furrows his eyebrows, observing Myka's eyes; they've changed to yellow and silver. He lets out a strained gasp as he feels something sharp pierce through his chest. Myka leans in to whisper into his ear. "You're not very observant."

And the final canon fires.


	38. Chapter 38

Katniss and Finnick hold on to each other in a warm embrace, the tears falling down their faces in relief. Gale and Myka have won! They're coming home!

The room fills with shouts of joy. Even mentors and stylists from other districts are happy with the outcome. Nothing could explain the happiness, the relief everyone had felt in that moment. And soon… they'll all be able to see the victors! Touch them, hold them again. It was a beautiful victory.

Everyone watches the screen as Myka and Gale hold one another on the ground, sobbing into each other's shoulders. They were finally going to go home! The hovercraft lets down a ladder and they both grab on, freezing in place. All they can think about is their loved ones. Gale would be going home to his mother and siblings. He'll see Katniss, Haymitch, Cinna, even Peeta again. And on top of it all, he'll be taking his brother home with him. Myka clutches onto his necklace, the one Finnick had given him before the Games, and all he can think about is being in his arms again. He was happy to win with Gale, of course, but Finnick is the one that excites him.

The hovercraft lands and the two victors are escorted out. They're instantly separated from one another with promises that they'll be seeing each other soon. A medical teams starts treatment on Gale's leg the moment he's laid down. Myka is escorted to a room where a team is waiting to patch up his hands and fingers. He rushes passed them and clings onto the man he'd been dreaming of seeing the moment they were separated. Finnick holds on to him tightly, planting butterfly kisses all over his face until he reaches Myka's mouth. Their lips crash over and over again, kissing with a burning desire. When their kissing finally calms down, Myka is the first to speak. "I missed you so much. I love you, Finnick."

"I love you, too, Myka." Finnick says as he gazes into the beautiful violet eyes he fell in love with before crashing their lips together again. The team pries them apart, urging the mentor to leave the room so they could get to work, the interviews would be starting shortly. He refuses to leave until security is called. It takes three guards to pull him out of the room so they can start prepping.

Beautiful lights reflect off the stage, illuminating the scenery. Caesar Flickerman flashes his dazzling smile, greeting the audience. They cheer in excitement, ready to see their victors, whom are backstage on opposite sides of the main stage. Gale is restless, shuffling from foot to foot, standing on his tip toes to see if he can manage to steal a small glimpse of his half-brother. Myka is escorted into the room and he instantly races to his mentor and lover.

So many feelings overwhelm them when they're finally able to see each other again. They kiss over and over until a man dressed in a red dress-shirt and black pants politely coughs to let them know of his presence. When they look over at him, Myka separates himself from Finnick with a bashful blush.

"Mr. Crane-" Finnick begins before he is cut off.

"I believe we are passed a last name basis. Seneca, please." He says courteously. The auburn-haired man nods his head before looking back at Seneca, waiting for him to say whatever it is he needed say. "Forgive me, but I was wondering if I could talk to Myka alone for a moment? I believe President Snow wanted to have a quick word with you anyway."

The tension in the room immediately feels stuffy and thick. Finnick squeezes Myka's hand with so much force, the pain from the broken fingers returns in an instant. When Myka gasps out, he suddenly realizes what he's doing and lets go. "I'll… I'll be back, Myka. I love you." He says before walking out the door to meet with President Snow, no doubt to remind him of their agreement.

Myka is in a state of confusion. Something had obviously upset Finnick, and he wasn't sure why Seneca was here. He appreciated the help he received in the Games, but he assumed they'd discuss agreements later. Perhaps this was simply the only time.

"Have you had the opportunity to talk with President Snow yet?" he asks, watching the tribute bite on his bottom lip and shake his head in response. He'd forgotten how beautiful Myka was in person, he was captivating on camera, but in real life he was simply from another world. "Oh, well I'll try and explain the best I can then. When we found out that you were not born in District 4, rules had to be changed. We've never had a case like this before and so… certain arrangements had to be made. We allowed the Games this year to have two victors with the rule that one of the final remaining tributes must be from either District 4 or 12 with… a certain catch." He holds on to Myka's hand, rubbing it very lightly. "Myka, you can't be allowed back in either District. You were seen to have an unfair advantage and the Capitol demands that you stay here."

Myka's eyes change to yellow and green with orange flecks. He doesn't understand. "W-what?"

"I'm so sorry, Myka. Finnick and I have tried everything we could. When you go on stage, he is going to announce that your relationship has been terminated. He's… he's going back to District 4 with Annie Cresta." At this, Myka yanks his hand away, eyes starting to water in disbelief. Seneca hugs him close to his body, breathing in his scent. "I'm so very sorry. But I want you to know that I have personally volunteered to take you in. President Snow has an atrocious offer for you, and if you refuse, your family in District 12 will be killed. I can't let him take you some place where they'll hurt you. Stay with me so I can protect you."

Sobbing and shaking his head, Myka lightly shoves Seneca off of him. Finnick would never do such a thing. He loved him. They were going to be together forever, and no one could take that from them. The crowd roars in excitement and his name is called to go on stage. He wipes his eyes and takes a deep breath to relax himself.

The moment he and Gale walk on stage, the crowd screams in exhilaration. Their identical gray eyes meet and suddenly Gale knows something is wrong. They embrace and the crowd awes. They take their seats next to one another and Caesar begins the interviews without delay.

"Welcome back, tributes! I have to say, it is an honor to have you both here again." He grins.

"It's great to be back, Caesar. It really is." Gale says. Myka nods his head in agreement, his mind elsewhere.

Wanting to pull Myka back in and draw the audience's attention, he announces his special guest. "Thinking back on the last time you were here, I have to say the crowd seemed absolutely enchanted by your appearances. Am I right?" he asks the audience, who roars in approval and agreement. "In fact, we have a very special guest here today. He has been known to us as the greatest sex symbol in the Capitol, and had successfully stolen the heart of Myka Volkayne himself- Ladies and gentlemen, Finnick Odair!"

The charismatic playboy struts on stage with such confidence you'd never believe anything was wrong. The crowd shrieks with lust the moment they see him walking across the stage to sit next to Myka.

"Mr. Odair, it's a pleasure to have you back on stage with us. We were told you had an announcement for us that may or may not affect the lucky singles out there…" at this, the audience instantly leans in, anticipating the news.

"You're absolutely right, Caesar. After careful consideration, Myka and I have decided our relationship was more casual than romantic. We are, regrettably, no longer dating, but have chosen to remain friends." He looks at Myka and grabs his hand, watching the gray-violet eyes turn to a vivid blue. Everything Seneca had told him was true after all.

"Well that is a shame!" Caesar says. "I thought you two made for a handsome couple. But on the light side, I believe this means all _three_ of you are on the market?"

Two of the three men on stage offer small smiles and it's enough to excite everyone in the audience. They cheer and clap, some even pass out. Gale looks over at Finnick, who seems charming and just as happy as the audience, but he can see the shakiness of his hands give him away. Looking at Myka, he notices his eyes have turned blue. None of this was right.

"Now, continuing the good news, I've heard a rumor about you, Myka." Caesar cocks his eyebrow with a grin. "I'm told you'll be staying in the Capitol from now on. Is this true?"

The screaming is the loudest it's ever been, the excitement filling the room to the point where it might burst. Finnick's hands tangle in his shirt in a nervous gesture and Myka has completely frozen in place. Now Gale knew something was definitely wrong! The room quiets down when Myka stands from his seat and walks over to Caesar. Everyone watches in confusion, wondering what he's doing until he lands a solid fist to Caesar's nose, the blood instantly trickling down his mouth and chin. But it doesn't stop there. He grabs whatever he can get his hands on and breaks it, smashing everything in his path. Four guards approach him and buzz him in the back of the neck with a taser, successfully knocking him out.

Unsure what was happening, Gale leaps from his seat to his half-brother until a guard catches his arm and tugs him away. He kicks, bucks, and fights the guard until a second grabs his other arm. Knowing that Gale and Myka will be killed if he doesn't do something quick, Finnick quickly chimes in.

"Everyone stop! Something must have triggered Myka's memories of the Games. He's just snapped! You saw what he and Gale went through. It's understandable that he'd act like that. It was probably the bright lights or something. And Gale was just trying to protect his brother. Now that he knows you're not here to harm him, he'll settle down. Right, Gale?" The green eyes plead for him to go along with this game. If he doesn't, everyone could get seriously hurt, if not killed.

This isn't how Finnick planned for everything to turn out. Originally, he was going to convince Myka to act mad so that he wouldn't have to stay in the Capitol. Nobody would want him if he was just like Annie, and he'd be able to go home. Which home, District 4 or 12, he didn't know, but he knew Myka would be in good hands either way living with him or Gale. But he never got the chance to talk to Myka about it.

Not that it mattered.

Myka had gone mad.

_Really_ gone mad.


	39. Chapter 39

Annie tenderly massages Finnick's hand. He's in pain. Though he has no bruises, cuts, nor physical signs of the hurt, she can see it in him in his tired, lifeless green eyes. This isn't how he had imagined it would end. If it weren't for the comfort of having her by his side, he doesn't know what he might have done. Did he make the right decision? It had to be. This was his only option to keep everyone alive. Had he done anything else, his family and loved ones would have been stolen from him and he would never have gotten them back.

But it doesn't feel right. Watching the city disappear like a distant dream, he feels his heart sink to the bottom of his chest, heavy and cold. Nothing would ever be the same again. This used to be the time he sought after most, being next to Annie, able to touch her, be away from the Capitol and its sins. But when he should feel happy, content, and relieved to go home, all he feels is emptiness. He still wants Myka, still loves him.

What will happen to them from this point on? Would he ever see the young victor with the captivating eyes and kind, gentle soul again? Will he be happy, in District 4, with Annie and his family, knowing that the boy he fell in love with would be under the constant supervision of the Capitol to be used as they saw fit? Will he ever be happy again? Should he have let him die in the arena after all, despite what the others believed?

Looking out the window as the train speeds by, he watches the city become smaller and smaller with distance, and his chest begins to grow heavy again. This isn't how it should have ended. He never even got the chance to explain why he had to do this. He never got the chance to say goodbye. Myka would hate him forever.

Though all he can feel is the pain of a broken heart, the tears do not come. His sadness goes beyond tears, beyond crying or screaming. He is broken.

Just like Myka.

Struggling to open his eyes, all he sees is a blur of white. It takes several minutes before he can focus. His eyes shine a beautiful leafy green with golden-yellow and orange flecks, surrounded by a circle of gray. The room is spacious with beautiful maroon and gold painted walls. He doesn't know where he is, or why he's here. He can't remember how he even got here in the first place.

"Hello, Myka. Can you hear me?" A voice coos next to him. Turning his head on the comfortable, plush pillows to his right he sees Seneca Crane laying on the large bed next to him, hand caressing his cheek in a loving gesture.

"Where am I?" Myka asks, terribly confused and weak. He can see his surroundings, but they're feathery and blurred.

"You're in my home, Myka." Seneca answers softly, not wanting to upset the already fragile creature beside him. He continues to stroke Myka's cheek, loving the feeling of his soft, smooth, pale skin beneath his fingertips.

Trying hard to stay focused, he feels himself daze in and out as if in a dream. "Did you drug me?"

Seneca's face never falters from its longing and seriousness. "Yes."

"Why?" Myka asks, confused.

"To help you with the pain." He answers. "Do you remember anything?"

Closing his eyes and struggling to find the memory of the events that took place before coming here, he finds himself drawing a blank. "Where's Finnick? And Gale? Can I see them?"

"Even if I could manage to arrange it, they won't see you." Seneca's voice never falters, never changes from the soft cooing.

"Why won't they see me?" Myka pleads. He doesn't understand anything.

Seneca leans from his spot and towers over Myka, smoothes his messy black hair from his face, and leans down to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. "Mr. Odair went home to District 4 with Miss Annie Cresta today."

Myka takes in a sharp breath, the hurt stinging his chest and eyes, but deep down he knew this to be true. "What… what about Gale? Why won't he see me?" he cries.

"Because… you killed your baby sister, Myka."

Gale paces around the cold, marble room in a panic. He needs to get back home to District 12 to see his siblings and his mother to make sure they're alright. He can't believe the news, refuses to believe it. His little Posy can't be dead. Haymitch was just misinformed and drunk. Why weren't Katniss and Peeta here? It was as if they had both disappeared from the face of the earth. He needed her right now. He needed to know that everything was okay.

The electronic door opens and closes behind President Snow. He's dressed in a fine white suit with a single red rose in his pocket. He takes a seat across from Gale, waiting for him to sit down as well so they can attend to business. "What do you think of the Capitol, Mr. Hawthorne?"

Entranced like a moth to a flame, Gale sits in the wooden chair painted white across from President Snow. The question is so strange. "It's… nice," is all he can manage to sputter. What was going on?

President Snow's laughter is like that of a snake. "That's good news. You're aware that your brother will be staying here from now on, yes?"

Gale's face hardens. He doesn't trust this man. "I heard. But why?"

"Would you like to see him from time to time? Perhaps stay in the Capitol a couple months of the year?" President Snow asks, ignoring his question.

Utterly confused, Gale furrows his brows. "Sir?"

"I have a proposition for you." President Snow explains simply.

"A proposition, sir?" Gale asks, wondering what this could be about.

"Yes. You see, I had proposed the very same offer to your brother, but because of his condition, well, I let him turn it down with a price. But _you_, my boy, are healthy, strong, and the Capitol loves you!"

"And what if I turn down your offer, too?" Gale wonders aloud.

"Your sister, what was her name again? Posy? I am so sorry for your loss," His features change from civil and polite to dark and serious. "But she was unfortunately the price of your half-brother's payment for refusing my offer. Let me make this clear to you, Mr. Hawthorne, she was only the appetizer of a feeding frenzy. I'd hate to see what the main course would look like." He leans in; his snake like eyes burning into Gale's petrified gray ones. "You and your brother have received more sponsors than any tribute in history, and you are both well liked here. He will not be leaving the Capitol and hopefully, in time, he will be able to adjust. My proposition is simple. I want you to stay here a couple months of the year, entertain a few clients; most will probably be your own sponsors, and in return you will not have to worry about another instance like that of your baby sister. Will you accept my offer?"

The shock settles deep into Gale's mind. This man before him was a monster. "You've done this to other victors, haven't you? Or are Myka and I so special?"

President Snow presses his fingers together and to his lips, watching Gale carefully. "I have made similar arrangements with other victors, yes, but you two are in fact very special."

Gale's fists begin to shake. It's taking him everything not to lunge at this beast in front of him. "You made the same arrangement with Finnick, didn't you? That's why he made that announcement. Isn't it? You're sick!"

"You do disappoint me, Mr. Hawthorne." President Snow says before standing from his seat, ready to leave and handle matters.

Gale realizes that he is walking away, that he'll kill his family unless he does something about it. "Wait!"

Stopping in his tracks, President Snow looks back at Gale, his face serious and amused. "Yes, Mr. Hawthorne?"

The pieces of the puzzle come together and everything begins to make sense. Haymitch had warned him about this before, and he only now realizes how dangerous the territory is. Myka was being forced to stay here. This "proposition" was made to him and because he refused, Posy was killed. He finds himself angry, hurt, and feeling betrayed by his new kin. But then, President Snow explained that he _let_ Myka refuse because of his "condition," meaning he considered the boy useless after his episode during the interviews. People would be too scared to be "entertained" by Myka. Gale finally understands exactly what President Snow is asking of him.

To accept President Snow's offer means personal eternal hell. To deny him meant the death of his family and loved ones. There can only be one choice.

"I accept your offer."

End.

* * *

**Author's note: Yes, this story is at its end. What can I say, it's an incredibly dark story from beginning to end. I may or may not continue on with a sequel, if you're all interested. Let me know! And thank you all for sticking it out and reading this the whole way through. You guys rock!**


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